‘And where did you go then?’

‘You’re determined to dig, aren’t you?’

‘No, Ms Roy, it’s just that your mother was not killed until 7.20 a.m. so we need to fill out your movements completely.’

‘And presumably also to check that I’m not capable of temporary gender reassignment?’

Gillard blinked at her. ‘I’m sorry?’

‘The news reports talked about a male cyclist. I’m not male, and I don’t think I can even ride a bike.’

‘As I said, this is purely a formality. Now if I could take down some names and addresses.’

Kiara stood up and made her way towards a small desk, where an ultra-thin Mac laptop sat open. ‘I’ll email you them all,’ she said. ‘Just for the record, I returned to Sasha’s flat for a snooze after the nightclub, then we all went out for breakfast.’ She tapped on the keyboard.

Gillard stood up, and gazed at the artworks. ‘How was your relationship with your mother?’

‘Variable, I suppose. My mother could be a hard-driving bitch,’ Kiara said. ‘She didn’t listen. The business came before everything and, thanks to my father, she was in the grip of this Gujarati acche din idea, the belief that good days are coming. But despite everything, I loved her. She was my mother. And I am mature enough to admit that in some ways I’m quite like her.’

‘Didn’t she fund your fashion business?’ he asked.

‘Reluctantly, when it became obvious that I had talent in that direction. Sure. But not until she had tried to screw up my life earlier by going along with my father’s scheme for this arranged marriage. She stood against him when he said things for the business that were crazy. But in other things she was a doormat. Like when she agreed with his plan to get me, a seventeen-year-old brought up in West London, to marry this old guy back in India in 2005.’

‘So they took you to India by force?’

‘Not exactly. They got me there by subterfuge, saying that we were meeting family. But these people who met us at the airport weren’t family. I soon realised. I wasn’t having it. I told them they would have to carry me kicking and screaming into the wedding tent. I never forgave my father for that.’

‘Why would they want you to marry against your will?’

She looked Gillard as if he was stupid. ‘What I wanted wasn’t even considered. I was an economic pawn to cement a financial relationship. I was supposed to marry this ugly forty-five-year-old guy, who just happened to own some big spice plantations on the Malabar coast. It was outrageous.’

‘So how did you sabotage it?’

‘I cut off all my hair and dressed like a punk, with torn clothes, a man’s boots, and then went to see the other family. That soon did the trick. My father was incandescent. He had put together a big dowry, and had worked for years to get this business alliance off the ground. He was particularly keen on them, because they were not only in his jati, but his sub-jati.’