‘Okay,’ Gillard said. ‘We have scheduled a press conference for eight p.m. this evening, but you don’t need to be there. The Metropolitan Police, whose area this is, will have an officer on the door here overnight, just to provide you with a little reassurance in case you get a large gathering of reporters outside. Gabby here is a family liaison officer. She will be back tomorrow morning, and can answer most of the questions you are likely to have about coroners, inquests, that kind of thing, as well as police processes.’

‘And even when I’m not here, I’ll always be a friendly voice at the end of a phone,’ Gabby said, handing over her business card to Morag, and extruding one of her trademark sympathy smiles.

Gillard said: ‘It’s a matter of some urgency that I’m able to interview each of the family in the next day or so. We need to establish some background, particularly regarding everyone’s movements, in the time leading up to Mrs Roy’s death.’

Morag looked taken aback, so Gillard hurriedly added: ‘It is just a formality. We like to rule out the unlikely possibilities, so that we can with some confidence return to more promising lines of inquiry.’

‘Okay,’ she replied. ‘I’ll see to it.’

‘There is something else which we would appreciate and will save us time.’

Morag smiled and cocked her head. ‘Yes?’

Gillard went to the door of the lounge, peered outside into the hallway, which was deserted, then came back in closed the door.

‘I will need to know about the financial construction of the business, exactly how much of it was controlled by Mrs Roy, and what happens to her shares—’

‘Now she’s dead?’ Morag gave a tight smile, and nodded. ‘Yes, tens of millions of pounds. Quite a motive. I’m sure that’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it?’

They said their goodbyes, and once they were out on the steps, Gabby turned to Gillard. ‘I remember now. Kiara Roy saved the lives of two children from a burning car back in 2013.’

‘Was that the M2 pile-up?’ Gillard recalled that it was one of the worst UK road accidents in recent years – sixty-eight vehicles collided in fog, leaving six dead and thirty-three injured.

‘Yes, I was stuck in traffic on the other carriageway just outside Maidstone, and saw this car, horribly squashed between two lorries, just starting to go up in flames. I jumped out and was clambering over the central reservation, but this Asian woman was already there. She used the car’s bumper, which had already fallen off, to smash the rear window of the car. She and an off-duty fireman braved the flames, and got two of the three toddlers out, but the parents perished.’

Gillard’s eyes widened at the tale. ‘That explains the gloves, then. Burns.’

‘Yes. From what I remember, she wouldn’t be identified. She was just known as Miss R. Refused all press requests, and commendations for bravery.’

‘I wonder why.’

‘She felt she’d failed, apparently. Felt guilty she couldn’t reach the final child.’