‘No, ma’am. After you left, the next person in the study was Mr Durbridge and that was over an hour later. He checked to see if Mr Jeavons had a pulse and, after viewing the recording, called the police.’

Hmm. The day after the dinner party, the police interviewed me as someone who was present and after that they hadn’t bothered me again. I figured I’d successfully managed to escape detection. I’d assumed I was safe. Big mistake. Tobey had proof on a recording that not only was I there, but that I’d handled the murder weapon. Proof he’d have no choice but to hand over to the police when they came knocking at his door. Why hadn’t he done anything with this yet?

‘Did the police remove the letter opener on the night of the murder?’

‘I believe Mr Durbridge might’ve taken the letter opener and swapped it for the ornamental knife on the desk instead. He carefully wrapped up the letter opener and took it with him.’

‘And you let him?’

‘It wasn’t my place to stop him,’ George replied. ‘He was most keen that no hint of suspicion should fall at your door.’

‘Dad, where did you put my …?’

A girl’s voice unexpectedly sounded behind us. I spun round. Standing in the doorway was a striking Nought girl with a cloud of wavy chestnut-brown hair, large, quizzical, dark amber eyes and full lips set in an oval face. She wore tropical sea-blue trousers and a dark blue T-shirt with a couple of tiny darker stains over her left breast. She must’ve spilled something and not realized. Her feet were bare. She was facing her dad and side-on to me.

‘Oh, you must be Chima,’ I said, smiling. ‘I’m Sephy Ealing. Your dad has been telling me about your plans to go to university. Congratulations.’

A quick glance at her dad, then Chima turned towards me and slowly nodded.

‘Hello. I’m sorry. I didn’t know Dad had company,’ she said.

‘No problem,’ I said. ‘Your dad was just telling me that you’re going to study medicine.’

Chima forced a smile. ‘It’s all Dad and I have ever dreamed of. I’m hoping to be a surgeon one day. I want to make him proud of me.’

‘I’m already proud of you, princess,’ said George.

Chima shared a smile with her dad and I was momentarily forgotten.

‘Well, good luck,’ I said warmly.

‘Thank you. Dad, can I borrow you when you’ve finished?’

‘Of course, angel. I’ll be right there.’ As Chima left the room, George turned to me, his smile fading. ‘If there’s nothing else, ma’am?’

‘I don’t suppose you have a spare copy of the recording for that evening, do you? One you might’ve kept surreptitiously? I’d love to see it for myself,’ I said, having one last try.