‘I enjoyed that same state of bliss years ago,’ she recalled, ‘but it soon began to fade. We didn’t so much as drift apart as let the wine trade come between us. Suffice it to say that I came to see how little we really had in common. However, married couples generally learn to read each other’s behaviour.’

‘My wife certainly does that to me,’ he said, fondly.

‘One sometimes knows exactly what a marital partner is thinking even if he or she is saying something quite different. That’s what happened with Hugh. When the news of Sir Roger’s death first became known, my immediate response was to fear that my husband had been involved.’

‘And what did you decide?’

‘I felt that I had to challenge him on the subject,’ she said. ‘When he called here earlier on, I did just that. Hugh couldn’t bring himself to say anything in praise of Sir Roger, of course, but he showed no sign of pleasure or satisfaction in what had occurred. It was as if he wanted to escape any discussion of it.’

‘What happened?’

‘I sensed that he hadn’t really come to accuse me of setting you and your brother on to him. He was unusually secretive. I could hear it in his voice and see it in his mannerisms. Hugh was concealing his feelings. So I accused him directly, Mr Skillen,’ she said. ‘I looked him straight in the eye and asked him if he had any connection whatsoever with the murder of Sir Roger.’

‘What was his answer?’

‘He didn’t reply. But his face gave him away.’

‘Do you think that he was in some way involved?’

‘I’ve been brooding on it for hours, Mr Skillen, and I came to the conclusion that he was. That’s why I dashed off that letter. It shook me,’ she said, seriously. ‘It shook me to the core. Without realising it, I had been living all that time with a man who is capable of stooping to murder.’

Paul Skillen was so certain that Harry Scattergood was somehow involved in the death of Sir Roger Mellanby that he went back to the place in Covent Garden where the murder had occurred. What had Scattergood been doing there and who was his companion? If they had nothing to hide, why had the two of them rushed off? As he went through the possibilities in his head, Paul wondered if he might get help from someone nearby. He walked quickly to the Golden Crown and went in.

Simeon Howlett was in his allotted seat but appeared to be fast asleep. Paul immediately bought the old man his favourite drink and set it down on the table in front of him. Howlett’s eyelids fluttered like the wings of a caged bird.