Clare ended the call and stood thinking. From her brief conversation with Gaby and Luke she didn’t think they could have known about Russell’s illness. But it certainly made sense of his decision to sell the restaurants. Cash in his investments and spend what little time he had left enjoying his life. The sound of conversation cut across her thoughts and she saw Russell’s three friends emerge from the trees, strolling in Clare’s direction. They saw her and there was a brief, whispered conversation. Clare walked smartly across and they hung back to wait for her.

‘Inspector,’ Eamon Ferry said when he was near enough, ‘sorry to miss you. It’s such a lovely day we thought we’d explore the grounds.’

She wondered why Eamon seemed to have appointed himself spokesman for the group and she thought she’d like to speak to them individually. ‘Isn’t it,’ she said, smiling. ‘I hope we’re not inconveniencing you too much.’

Steve Christie and Doug Gerrard seemed anxious to move away and Clare took her chance. She caught Chris’s eye then turned back to the trio. ‘I wonder if you could spare me a few minutes, Mr Gerrard?’ She looked across the garden and saw a bench seat in front of a deep herbaceous border ‘If we could just…’

She led him over to the bench, conscious that Eamon and Steve’s eyes were on them as they went. Chris walked briskly across the lawn to join them and Clare indicated the bench. ‘Please,’ she said to Doug Gerrard, ‘do sit.’

He eased himself down then met her eye. ‘What’s this about?’

‘Friday night,’ Clare said smoothly. ‘I gather you had some visitors.’ She watched him, his eyes flicking left and right as he seemed to be deciding what to say.

‘Visitors?’ he said, at last.

‘Yes. A dark-coloured van, or maybe a minibus. It arrived about eight o’clock. I’d like you to tell me who or what was in that van.’ She waited for a few moments and when he didn’t speak she went on. ‘I think it was a party of women. Am I correct?’

He looked at her, his hand rubbing his chin. ‘Aye,’ he said. ‘A few girls. Just to make the night go with a swing, ye know? Bit of a treat for Russell.’

‘Were the women sex workers?’

‘Oh no,’ he said, forcing a laugh. ‘Nothing like that, Inspector. Just lassies that liked a party.’

‘Friends of yours?’

He shook his head. ‘No. Friends of a friend, you might say.’

‘You arranged for them to attend?’

‘Aye. Kind of.’

‘How?’

He glanced at Chris and inclined his head. ‘Ye ken how it is. Ye get chatting in the pub. Someb’dy says they know some lassies – the kind that like a laugh and a few drinks.’

‘And did any of you have sex with the girls?’