Luke spread his hands. ‘David only heard one end of the conversation. I think he must have misconstrued what Doug was saying.’

‘What was the conversation about?’ Clare asked.

‘It’s so hard to remember now. We were at the hotel, you know. Just about to go into dinner. Doug phoned. I think I asked if Russell was having a good birthday and he said something about him seeing the sunrise from the treetop walk the next morning.’

Clare studied him for a moment but he avoided her eye, smiling instead at Chris and Tony.

Tony leaned back in his seat and crossed one long leg over the other. ‘What did you think when you heard about Russell Fox’s death?’

There was a flicker in Luke’s eyes. Clearly a question he hadn’t prepared for. ‘Oh, I’m not sure,’ he said. ‘Shocked, obviously. Yes, shocked. And concerned for Gaby. I mean her brother…’

Clare regarded him with something approaching contempt. She reckoned he was the type who would do anything to wriggle out of trouble. ‘So to be absolutely clear, Mr Gasparini,’ she said, ‘you lay the blame for Russell Fox’s death squarely with Doug Gerrard. Is that correct?’

‘Yes,’ he nodded. ‘That’s it. All Doug’s doing.’ He shook his head. ‘I never imagined he’d go that far.’

‘Thank you.’ Clare’s tone was brisk. She was keen to give nothing away. And then she said, ‘And Gaby, your wife, did you add sleeping pills to her coffee?’

He flicked a glance at his solicitor then away again. ‘I added one. Just the one.’

‘Just one?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why?’

‘Gaby had been through a traumatic week. It’s no surprise she wasn’t sleeping. So I found this cottage – peace and quiet, you know? David joined us for a night and I think it did Gaby good to spend some time with him. But, after he went she was tired, you know? She looked washed out and I thought, if I left her, she might sleep. So I told her I had some business to attend to and that I’d be gone for the day. She seemed fine with that so I made her some coffee. I knew she wouldn’t take the pills. She always said she didn’t like how they made her feel. But she was exhausted. So I added one to her coffee. Just so she’d be able to sleep while I was gone.’

It was all too glib. Too practised. Clare reckoned he’d been going over his statement since he’d been carted off in the ambulance. She saw his shoulders droop as he relaxed, having told his tale. She smiled, pretended to make some notes on her pad. Then suddenly she said, ‘Gaby had ingested at least eight of the tablets, Mr Fox. Possibly as many as ten. Not just one.’