“So tell me all about it,” he demanded enthusiastically. He moved away from me and I heard the soft pop and hiss of a champagne bottle being opened. There was no hope of catching up on sleep now. I sat up and switched on the bedside light.

Richard blinked in the unexpected glow, then gave me his cutest smile as he handed me a fizzing glass of pink champagne. “Every cough and spit,” he demanded.

So I told him all about the showdown, and how Neil had been picked up within five minutes by the team Jackson had wisely

“Great job,” Richard said with as much satisfaction as if he’d been the prime mover. “But I still don’t understand why he killed her. Surely it wasn’t just to produce a scandal that would sell his book?”

“Not quite. I don’t think he actually meant to kill her. There was nothing premeditated about it. He was just incredibly lucky that no one else had an alibi and everyone else had better motives.”

“But why?” Richard howled in frustration.

I smiled sweetly and took a long, slow mouthful of champagne. “Can’t tell you. It’s all sub judice, and you journalists can never keep your mouths shut.”

“Kate!” he wailed, his face a mixture of injured innocence and pure frustration.

I had to relent. “When Moira left Jett all those years ago, she was pregnant. She had nowhere to go, and not a lot of cash left, so she had an abortion. Jett never knew about it, and it’s a pound to a gold clock that he would never have had her back if he had done. The guy’s notoriously anti-abortion, and he’d never have forgiven her for killing his own kid. Anyway, Neil found out about the abortion, and he told Moira he knew. Maybe he was even trying a spot of blackmail. She didn’t want a walking time-bomb like that around the place. I questioned Kevin about it last night, and it turns out that she was trying to do a deal with him where Neil would be kicked out. In exchange, Moira wouldn’t tell Jett about Kevin’s little games with the money. Once Neil was out the door, anything he said would be seen as sour grapes.

“She must have been crowing to him about it in the rehearsal room. The prospect of being deprived of what must have been his last chance of a meal ticket was too much for him. He snapped and picked up the nearest object and thumped her with it. Like I said, I don’t think murder was part of his plans, but having done it, he did his damnedest to make sure he got away with it.”

“And he would have done, too, if you hadn’t known about the date-stamp on the files,” Richard said. “Bloody clever of you.”