‘Perfect timing, sir. There’s an urgent call for you,’ said Michelle Tsu, holding up a receiver. ‘Owen Cathcart from the Telegraph.’

The detective took up the offered handset. ‘Owen, how are you?’

‘I’m run off my feet with the Nosh2U debacle, biggest corporate collapse for years on the cards. I take it you’ve seen the news on Empire of Spice?’ Cathcart asked.

‘No, I’ve been a bit busy. What’s happened?’

Cathcart laughed. ‘The company put out a one-line statement, to say that it was the subject of an approach which may lead to a takeover bid. The shares are up 20 per cent.’

Aware that he was party to privileged information about Johnny Lam’s interest, Gillard gave a cautious response. ‘Oh yes. Did it say who it was from?’

‘No. Unless a deal has been agreed, it would be unusual to name the bidder or the price. I was just wondering—’

‘I couldn’t possibly comment, Owen.’

He chuckled softly. ‘No, absolutely, of course. The investigation is highly confidential. Still, I presume you have talked both to Mr Lam and to Global Foods?’

‘I can neither confirm nor deny any conversations or interviews we may or may not have had in relation to the inquiry.’

Cathcart chuckled again. ‘Aha, Craig, I see a great future for you in public relations. That was very deftly handled, if I may say so. Still, worth a try.’

‘Always great to talk to you, Owen,’ Gillard said. ‘But I’ve got an urgent appointment.’ He ended the call. He certainly wouldn’t let a journalist know that the person he planned to meet was the evasive Johnny Lam. If anyone had a financial motive for killing Mrs Roy, it was the Anglo-Chinese billionaire. And now, with this takeover offer, it seemed he had made his move.

It had taken a long time for Surrey Police to pin down Johnny Lam for a meeting. His PA had done a phenomenal job of deflection, deferral and procrastination. Shireen Corey-Williams had been passed from pillar to post, and had herself been interrogated by Lam’s terrier-like corporate lawyers about what kind of questions the great man was going to be asked. It was only when Shireen refused to submit a list of written questions, but instead threatened to close down the company’s entire London headquarters and seize all its computers, that Hong Kong & International Cuisine finally agreed to play ball.

Shireen let Gillard know about the breakthrough and now, after taking the train from Guildford to Waterloo, the two detectives arrived at the steel and glass tower on London’s South Bank which housed the company’s headquarters. They were met from the lift by the senior vice president for PR. She then took them to a large dark-panelled meeting room where they waited for a few minutes before a dapper figure in a light grey suit and kingfisher blue tie strode into the room, flanked by no fewer than four dark-suited, middle-aged men, barely a grey hair out of place between them.