I refrained from pointing out that it had more to do with the office answering machine than my psychic powers. “I’m going to have to talk to you about the last six weeks, Jett,” I protested as he walked out of the room.

“You’re going to have to talk to all of us about the last six weeks,” he said over his shoulder as I followed him. “I just want them all to know they have to co-operate with you. They can be as bloody-minded as they like with the cops, but it’s me that puts the bread in their mouths and they’ll do what I tell them.”

It was strange to see how quickly his natural authority had returned to him. I couldn’t believe it was my agreeing to work for him that had done the trick. If he was capable of such mercurial mood shifts, maybe my initial assessment of his innocence had been way off-beam.

Jett threw open the drawing room door just on the stroke of twelve. They were all there except Neil. None of them looked as if they’d had much sleep. Equally, none of them looked like they’d shed too many tears.

As I entered behind Jett, Kevin groaned. “Oh God, Jett, I told you to leave her out of this. We don’t need an extra nosy parker round here. The cops have already turned this place into a goldfish bowl.”

“He’s right, Jett,” Gloria chipped in. “You need to come to terms with your grief. Having her around the place isn’t going to help.”

Jett threw himself into a spindly-legged chair. Miraculously, it withstood the impact. “I can’t be doing any grieving while I know Moira’s killer is under my roof, eating my food and drinking my booze. Kate’s here to find out which one of you is my enemy. Any of you that doesn’t want to be part of my team, you can go now. But you want to stick around, then you co-operate with Kate one

Kevin cast his eyes up to heaven and muttered, “Give me strength!” I knew exactly how he felt. Melodrama was never my favorite art form. But it was Tamar who was right on the ball. She crossed the room and hugged him. “Whatever you need is all right by me, Jett.” I tried not to vomit, but it was hard.

Before anyone else could chip in with their tuppence worth, Neil came in. “Sorry I’m late, Jett,” he apologized. “I’ve been issuing full press statements to all the nationals, and it took longer than I thought.”

“Enter stage left, the in-house vulture,” Micky sneered.

“Somebody’s got to handle them,” Neil replied mildly. “Better that it’s someone who can string two sentences together.”

“Meaning what?” Micky demanded belligerently.