I thought of Salton lying paralysed in the dinghy, drifting under the hot sun. Perhaps he was conscious for a time. I hoped not. Maybe he died of thirst. It would have been better for him if he’d had another heart attack to finish him off. That would be more merciful.

‘That’s murder,’ I said.

‘Who cares?’ she said freely. ‘It solved the problem. Took the heat off.’

I glanced at Jill Salton. Her eyes were wide open and she held Bette Haslam with an unwinking stare. Her body was rigid and her hands had begun to tremble. Leotta had become tense again too: she had slid forward on the settee and was sitting on the edge, ready to take off. I put down my glass with a sharp crack and she jerked her head towards me. There was a feral glare in her eyes, which dimmed a little as I shook my head in a negative gesture.

‘That’s right,’ said Bette Haslam. ‘Cool it!’ The gun swung towards Leotta. ‘I don’t know what you’re so uptight about, sister. What was David Salton to you?’ Sudden comprehension came into her eyes and she burst into laughter. ‘Oh no, don’t tell me the saintly David Salton had a piece of ass on the side? Christ, wait till I tell the boys about this.’

Although she laughed heartily, I noticed that the gun in her hand stayed steady. Her chuckle died away and she said, ‘And what does Mrs Salton think about that? Did the three of you go to bed together? Must have been real cosy.’

Jill said, ‘Shut your foul mouth.’ Her voice trembled.

‘Don’t talk to me like that, Salton,’ said Bette, suddenly vicious. ‘I don’t like you and I never have. I don’t like people who treat me like dirt. You never knew I existed, did you? You bought an airplane and you bought a man to fly it. They existed so that David Salton could fly around the world and do his wheeler-dealing. But the pilot’s wife was just something that was around, something that didn’t matter, something that could be ignored. I could have dropped dead and you wouldn’t have known the difference. So don’t put on any airs with me, Salton, or I might just put that little bit of extra pressure on this trigger. You hear me?’

Jill was mute and Bette said in a rage, ‘I asked if you hear me, you frozen bitch?’

I nudged Jill and she said, ‘I hear you.’

I needed to bring down the temperature: antagonising a person with a gun can be fatal. I said, ‘Whatever it is you’re doing must be bloody important.’

‘It’s the biggest,’ Bette said curtly. ‘The biggest, Kemp.’

‘And it’s something to do with Salton’s plane?’