‘It’s not what you think. Women just notice these things. Anyway, as Mr Tan knows a good suit when he sees one he wouldn’t be too keen to deal with a Harley Street specialist who was dressed by Top Man.’

‘I can’t believe that all Harley Street specialists have their suits made in Savile Row. What about the shoes? Lobb, I hope?’

Sarah bent down and picked up a box. She removed the lid and took out a highly polished black brogue. ‘Church’s, I’m afraid. And before you ask, no they are not new. They need to look as though you’ve worn them before.’

‘OK. I know the ropes.’ He sighed and sat on the edge of his desk. ‘I just wish that I’d had a bit more notice that’s all.’

Christopher was sitting at his study desk. Maria was cleaning the bathrooms. He’d greeted her with a kiss on the cheek, but she had seemed distant. Not her usual bright-eyed self. Perhaps she had had some family upset. He would ask her as soon as he had a moment. Maybe when they had coffee. He’d been trying to sort out in his mind his precise plan of action when the phone rang. It was Monty Loveday, the coroner.

‘About our conversation the other day,’ said Monty.

‘Oh, don’t worry, Monty. I decided not to proceed. I didn’t do anything about it.’

‘No. I know you didn’t. But I did.’

‘Oh?’

‘Yes. I thought that if you had your suspicions, maybe I should, too.’

‘But Reggie’s body had been left to science. It had already gone when I spoke to Dr Armstrong.’

‘Yes. But I tracked it down. Some of the organs had already been removed, but the pathologist examined what was left; ran some blood tests and suchlike.’

‘And?’ Christopher waited anxiously for Monty’s reply.

‘Clean as a whistle, I’m afraid. No traces of anything untoward. No marks–other than the bruising you’d expect from a car accident. I thought you’d like to know. Just to put your mind at rest.’

‘Right. Thank you, Monty.’ Christopher put down the phone, thought for a few minutes, then picked it up again and dialled a number.

‘Hello, surgery.’

‘Could I speak to Stella Walters please?’

‘Just a minute.’ The line went silent, then, after a few seconds, a woman’s voice answered ‘Dr Silverwood’s practice.’

‘Hello Stella, it’s Christopher Devon.’

‘Dr Devon! How are you? How nice to hear from you.’

‘Thank you. Stella, I’m so sorry about the news. About Reggie.’

‘Yes. Terrible shock. It’s so difficult having to answer the phone with his name, but then not every patient knows yet, so I have to.’