‘I hear that you have come into a nice little inheritance, Miss Browne.’

A horrible thought occurred to me. ‘Does that make me a suspect?’

‘Should it?’ he answered blandly.

‘Well, I … I don’t know,’ I admitted.

‘Of course, in the investigation of any murder, one has to ask the question – who benefits?’ He laughed at my horrified face. ‘Just my little joke,’ he assured me, standing up. ‘I won’t keep you any longer, Miss Browne, you really do look shockingly pale.’

‘Before you go, Inspector, tell me, do you believe that Nick’s murder and the murder of Bert Evans are connected?’

He turned to look at me. The long, steady stare was working overtime. ‘At the moment we are treating them as separate investigations, Miss Browne.’

He pushed in his chair and then wandered over to the kitchen windowsill, where he stood considering the pot plant for a moment, before poking his finger into the compost. ‘A little more water,’ he told a gaping Kate with a pleasant smile, ‘and a little less sun.’

I had to bite my lip to stop myself giggling hysterically.

He went to the kitchen door. ‘Don’t worry, ladies, I can find my own way out.’

We waited until we heard the front door slam before we dared to look at one another.

‘Bloody hell!’ Kate squeaked, flopping down on a chair.

I gulped down my aspirin. ‘I’m going to bed. And I don’t care who calls, don’t wake me. I’ve already had far too much excitement for one day.’

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

It took me several minutes of just standing, staring at the scratched black paintwork, before I got up the courage to open Nick’s door − my door now. At the first attempt the key wouldn’t turn, although it was the right key, placed into my hand only the day before by young Mr Young. The weeks of legal wrangling had lasted through Christmas and the new year, passed my birthday, through all of February and into March.

During that time, although I did not speak with her personally, Helena Burgoyne had continued to restate her conviction that I had kept her rings, that I’d been given them for services rendered. I would have laughed if it wasn’t so tragic.

But now everything was sorted. Nick’s place was legally mine. I tried the key a second time, and this time I didn’t fumble it. The door opened and showed me the stairs. This time there was no Mr Young to accompany me. I was on my own. I took a deep breath and ran up, stopping on the threshold of the living room.