‘So who loaned it to you?’

‘It’s Morag’s spare. Shall I go and get her?’ She turned to lead him back into the dining room, where voices were being raised again in dispute.

The detective rested a gentle hand on her shoulder. ‘No, it’s all right. We don’t have the registration number anyway, so don’t say anything. I don’t want to alarm her.’ This was an interesting development and Gillard planned to tackle Morag separately about it.

‘Well you wouldn’t want to spoil her day anyway. She’s just been appointed to the board.’

‘Is that what all the fuss is about?’

Mrs Boswell smiled. ‘If you ask Prisha, definitely. She’s really not happy about it. But there is an enormous to-do about whether or not to sell the company.’ They walked back towards the meeting, where Prisha was loudly berating her brother, who was slumped in his chair, across the table from her, his spread hands and shrugged shoulders expressing bafflement.

‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ Vikram Vaj said. ‘Can we return to the agenda please?’

‘Okay, you can minute this,’ Prisha said, standing up and slinging her handbag over her shoulder. ‘I’m sick and tired of our family company and the trust being run by a cabal of my father’s cronies. When I was a teenager, before any of you were directors, I worked on the production line making samosas by hand in ninety degree heat for a pittance, because my father thought it would be good for me. I worked from 4.30 a.m. on Saturdays and Sundays during term time, and during school holidays. And my miserable half per cent shareholding is now being further diluted, because my conniving brother is bringing her on board,’ and here she stabbed a finger towards Morag. ‘And is granting her ten times what I’ve got.’

‘I worked on the line too, Prisha,’ Morag said softly. ‘In the packing hall, university holidays for three years.’

Prisha flapped her hand. ‘Packing hall, big deal. Then in the evening, you’d sneak off to Harry’s house—’

‘I think we’re getting off the point,’ Vaj said.

‘—emerging in the morning like the cat that got the cream.’

Morag stood up. ‘You spied on me. You spied on us,’ she said pointing to Harry. ‘Private detectives? Good grief, woman.’

Prisha pointed an accusing finger at her brother. ‘Only because you, Harry, said it was over with that Scottish tart—’

‘I’m actually here, Prisha, and I object to your—’ Morag said.

‘—when my mother finally found you a suitable bride. And then we discovered you were still carrying on just the same!’

Kiara raised a hand. ‘Shouldn’t we be discussing whether or not to sell the company to Johnny Lam?’

‘We don’t have a choice, Kiki,’ Harry said. ‘As I explained, there is a hole—’

‘Shh!’ Vikram Vaj hissed, finger to his lips. ‘This is confidential information, and we would have to take a vote on whether to admit Mr Gillard to the meeting.’

‘But I still don’t understand how £108 million can just vanish,’ Kiara said.