“Sit yourselves down, girls,” he said. Like his assistant, he had kept his local accent. “Now you tell me just why I should extend you my fullest cooperation. Why should I care what happens to any of that lot up there, apart from my Sarah?”

There was silence for a moment, Cordelia flicked a glance at Lindsay, who calmly took out her cigarette pack and offered it to Cartwright. “Smoke? No? Clever boy.” She passed one to Cordelia and lit both. Then she answered him. “It strikes me that a businessman with your obvious acumen would not have kept his daughter on at Derbyshire House after the question of the playing fields came up unless there was some highly pressing reason. After all, it gave her an awkward conflict of loyalties, didn’t it? I’d guess that you didn’t remove her because the school has given her the security and friendship she never found anywhere else.”

Cartwright slammed his hands flat on the desk. “You’ve got a hell of a nerve! My daughter was sent there for the best education, and she’ll stay there till it’s finished. Are you suggesting I don’t treat her properly?”

Lindsay continued unflustered, “Quite the opposite,” she said calmly. “I think you and Sarah are very close. I think you both care deeply about each other. But you’re a very busy man. You must often be away from home, working late, whatever. Obviously, a growing daughter needs more than you can spare. If she’s found something she needs at the school, it would be a very important reason for letting her stay there, in spite of the conflict of interests.”

“They must be better off up there than I thought if they can afford smart-arsed psychological private eyes to try and clear their homicidal staff,” sneered Cartwright, still angry but cooling fast.

“We’re not private eyes, and we’re not being paid,” Cordelia retorted, no longer able to hold back her irritation. “We happen to be friends of Paddy Callaghan. And we’re certain she didn’t kill Lorna Smith-Couper. We intend to find out who did. Now, if you’re prepared to help us, well and good. If not, also well and good. We’ll simply have to get the answers we need by another route.”

Lindsay managed to hide her surprise at this display of iron in Cordelia’s soul. Cartwright sat back in his chair, considered them both for a moment, then spoke slowly. “All right,’ he said. “Bloody nosy women, that’s what you are. I suppose you can ask me your damn questions. I don’t promise to answer any of them, but I’ll listen to what you have to say. Just remember one thing—I wasn’t at that concert on Saturday night.”