‘My wife would say anything to get me into trouble.’

‘She was able to give me a firm assurance that she overheard you giving instructions to someone to pry into Sir Roger’s private life. Either you did or you didn’t. Which one is it?’

‘Kitty was mistaken in what she overheard.’

‘So you do admit that instructions were given?’

‘I admit nothing.’

‘You went to see your wife earlier today.’

‘Yes, I did.’

‘Why was that?’

‘My principal objective was to complain about you and your brother. I told Kitty that I resented the way that she’d unleashed the pair of you on to me without any reason to do so.’

‘I never even met your wife, Mr Denley. I came at my brother’s suggestion in the hope that I might get to the truth.’

‘Then the truth is that I had nothing whatsoever to do with the assassination, though I’m happy to confess that it brought me a great deal of satisfaction. I loathed everything that Mellanby stood for. Whoever silenced that dangerous voice is a public benefactor.’

‘Does that mean you condone the crime of murder?’

‘No, of course I don’t.’

‘You sound as if you want the killer to get away with it,’ said Peter. ‘How much did you pay him?’

Denley blushed. They were in his office, a large, well-appointed room with a selection of bottles of wine displayed on a table. A series of framed awards hung on the walls. The firm was clearly a leader in the market. Close to the window was an exquisite sofa for occasions when Denley needed to relax. In a corner was a sizeable safe on top of which were some wine goblets.

‘I must ask you to leave, Mr Skillen,’ said Denley, pulling himself up to his full height. ‘If you refuse to do so, I’ll have you removed.’

‘There was another reason why you visited your wife, wasn’t there?’

‘The door is behind you.’

‘You not only told Mrs Denley that you missed her, you were clearly hoping to effect some sort of reconciliation in due course.’

‘That’s a private matter.’

‘Your wife was shocked that you should even have raised the issue. It was only after you’d left that she realised what you were trying to do. You were anxious to lure her back into the family home to restore the impression of normality. It would put to bed all those rumours about an attachment between your wife and Sir Roger Mellanby. Moreover, it would divert any suspicion of your involvement in Sir Roger’s death away from you.’

‘This is insufferable,’ said Denley. ‘I want you out of here.’

Before he could even walk towards the door, however, it opened to admit a man who locked the door behind him, then pulled out a pistol from under his coat. He moved it from one to the other.

‘Which one of you is Hugh Denley?’