John gave me a look of pure dislike and said evenly, ‘Thank you, ma’am.’

I followed him into a hall where he picked up a receiver, spoke into the mouthpiece, and then held it out. ‘Your call,’ he said. ‘Sir.’

‘Thank you,’ I said, and watched his upright back disappear among the greenery. ‘Kemp here.’

‘You wanted me?’ Ogilvie asked.

‘What’s new on the Rialto?’

‘I wish you’d stop quoting,’ said Ogilvie peevishly. He sounded tired. ‘Especially when you misquote. I’ve been talking to the police. They think the inquest went off fine.’

‘No foul play?’

‘None that was detectable. Winstanley’s report ought to be printed in Punch, though.’

‘The pathologist? Why – is it unreliable?’

‘I wouldn’t bet heavily on it, let’s put it that way. The body was in a bad condition but from what I hear, Winstanley is worse. Seventy and shaky.’

‘But highly respected,’ I said. ‘What happened to Salton – buried or burned?’

‘Buried. Are you thinking of poison?’

‘I’m not thinking of anything much. Did you see Jackson?’

‘I saw him. As you said, a creep. But an informative creep. He’ll lose his job if he doesn’t stop that sudden rush of words to the mouth.’

Ogilvie told me what Jackson had said, which didn’t add anything to what I knew already.

‘I’d better tell you how I’ve been doing here.’

‘Where’s here?’ asked Ogilvie. ‘All I have is a telephone number.’

‘El Cerco – the Salton place.’ I brought him up to date and he said, ‘Bill, do you suspect murder?’

‘I don’t know yet.’

‘Look, you’re the boss but does it make any difference to us? We pay out anyway.’

‘It all depends on who has done the murdering.’

His voice was incredulous. ‘Mrs Salton?’

‘I didn’t say that,’ I said. ‘Not out loud, anyway. Do some checking on the political side if you can. I’ll tackle the Salton Estates end tomorrow. Tonight I’ll be at the Blue Water Casino tying up Mr Black. I’ll be there pretty late, say, about ten o’clock. I’m having dinner here. Mrs Salton is preparing it with her own fair hands.’

‘If you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking, you’d better watch for the arsenic in the artichokes. What’s she like, anyway?’

I considered before I spoke. ‘She’s fiftyish, runs to about two hundred pounds on the hoof, sallow complexion, dark moustache. You’ll be seeing her tonight at the casino.’

‘Ouch!’ said Ogilvie. ‘Bill, you work bloody hard for your money. See you later.’

He rang off and I grinned as I put down the telephone. But he was right; I do work bloody hard for my money. There was more to this than the possibility of a plain old insurance scam. My reputation as the best consultant in the business was at stake.