‘You said that Mrs Roy knew about your investment plans,’ Gillard said. ‘Was it actually the case that she uncovered what you had done and confronted you about it?’

‘No, that’s not true at all. Indeed if it was true, and I was minded to bump her off, I would obviously need to have done it at the time, not waited until some snowy Sunday morning to bash her over the head while she was walking the dog.’

‘Perhaps, but this would make it look like the crime had been committed by an outsider.’

‘I’m sorry, this is nonsense,’ Deepak said. ‘You don’t have a shred of evidence that I was involved.’

‘We’ve only had a sample of your DNA for a few hours, but the lab has already matched it to a trace on the murder weapon.’

‘What?’ This was the first time Deepak had lost his sangfroid.

‘A silver-painted gym weight.’ Gillard had only got the email from the lab as they were parking the car.

‘That can’t be true, I was with Victoria at the time and I’ve never owned any gym weights.’

Gillard smiled. ‘Well, DNA tests don’t lie. I think you’ll agree it looks bad, so I’m eager to hear your explanation.’

Deepak thought for a moment and then said, ‘I did see some hand weights like that in the spare bedroom of Harry’s flat a few weeks ago. I might have picked them up.’

‘A convenient explanation,’ Gillard said. But he guessed there could be something in it.

Gillard had already decided he needed to take a closer look at the movements of Harry Roy. He was already tracking the location of Harry’s mobile, and that of Morag Fairburn. The mobile service providers had each sent him a couple of snapshots of the cell tower analysis, and it was clear that the erstwhile lovers were travelling together again. They were probably in the same car, and had returned to Mrs Roy’s house in Richmond for the funeral reception. An hour later, they were on the M3 heading back into Surrey. As usual the information was more than an hour out of date, but still handy.

The detective’s thinking had changed somewhat in the hours since the funeral, and it was Harry Roy’s mental state that most preoccupied him. If only he could find out what he was thinking. He was certain that would lead him to the killer. Here was a man, close to losing his fortune, unenthusiastic about the prospect of marriage to a wealthy and beautiful woman. Was it her disability? Harry was already comfortable helping those with disabilities, but marriage required an altogether different level of commitment. Beyond that, Sonali was an independent, assertive and accomplished businesswoman, with her own mind to go with that incredible face. Gillard could understand that Harry was nervous about being married to such a strong woman. But there was something else that was niggling at him too. At the funeral, Harry and Morag had seemed inseparable, she casting her gaze widely as if she was guarding him from something. When Harry showed no signs of going up to converse with his bride-to-be, Gillard had quietly asked Claire why she thought that was. She had replied that it was probably something to do with Hindu ritual, that it would be bad luck.