‘Doug said Russell was going to die soon.’ He took a couple of deep breaths in and out then went on. ‘He’d planned to invest in my TV company. Doug’s pubs too. But, when he heard he was ill, he told us he’d changed his mind. That he wanted the money for Gaby and Sacha. Some kind of trust.’ He lifted his eyes towards David who towered over him. ‘Doug said it would be like a mercy killing. Spare Russell the agony of a painful death. But we had to do it before Russell had the trust drawn up. That way, Gaby would inherit Russell’s money and I’d persuade her to invest in my TV series. And… I owed Doug a bit of money too. So he said, if he arranged for Russell to die, I’d have to see him right. Interest, he called it.’ Luke tried to turn his head to see David’s face but David still had a tight grip on his hair.

‘Go on,’ David said. ‘That’s not all.’

Luke was shivering now, his voice shaky. ‘I… I, er, told Doug I’d be away for the weekend, at that wedding, and he said that was perfect ’cause he didn’t trust me not to say something stupid.’ He looked back at Clare. ‘I was glad to be out of it, Inspector.’

Clare said, ‘So you and Mr Gerrard conspired to have Russell Fox murdered.’

Luke’s gaze dropped and he didn’t speak.

‘Say it!’ David roared.

‘Yes, okay. Doug and I talked about it. But I was away. Inspector, you know I wasn’t there.’

‘Makes no difference,’ David said. ‘You still planned it. Conspiracy to murder, isn’t it, Inspector?’

‘It is,’ Clare admitted. ‘But there’s more, David, isn’t there?’ She looked at him, holding his gaze, aware that Bill was edging closer to them. Every instinct in her body wanted to glance to the side – see what Bill was doing. She sensed Chris too had moved but she forced her eyes to stare straight ahead. Straight at David Fox. She had to keep talking. Keep him engaged so he didn’t see what she knew was about to happen. ‘There’s Gaby, isn’t there?’ she said. ‘Maybe Luke can tell us about the overdose?’

Luke started to sob at the mention of his wife’s name and David bent over him.

‘Don’t you dare start snivelling,’ he yelled. ‘You’re not fit—’