‘I can’t say never, but it’s just for her. She wanted somewhere close to Redhill while the new production line was being set up. She was very hands-on about that, seem to be working there about eighteen hours a day during that time. I think I have been there but not for at least a year. Why do you ask?’

‘The place was very neat and tidy, and I just took a look around to see how regularly your mother appeared to stay there. Inside the fridge I found six jam jars full of urine. Can you shed any light on that?’

Harry gave a slight laugh. ‘I should have anticipated that that would puzzle you. My mother used to drink a glass of chilled urine every morning. It contains antibodies and is supposed to be good for preventing allergies. It’s not an uncommon practice in Indian culture. My father was a great believer, and would ceremoniously down a big glass of it at breakfast in front of the family.’

‘I take it that it was her own she was taking?’ Claire asked.

He laughed again. ‘Oh yes, I can’t imagine her drinking anybody else’s. She was hoping it would help with her alopecia, and the tiredness and stress she had been feeling in the last few months.’

‘I’ve sent some off for analysis,’ Gillard said. ‘We’ll put it together with her medical records for the forensic pathologist and see exactly what was going on. I’m afraid that we won’t be able to release the body to the family for some time.’

He nodded. ‘Yes, the liaison officer told me. My mother had been following various diets to try to improve her health. In the last six months since she became very worried, she had variously cut out gluten, lactose and tried to do without carbohydrates for a while. So if you are going through the cupboards you may find some strange foodstuffs.’

As Gillard left, he realised there might be an awful lot of forensic toxicology to do.

Chapter 5

Tuesday

For an empire, it was an unprepossessing frontage. The Slough factory from which three quarters of the Empire of Spice products came was on an anonymous trading estate under the thundering flight path of jets coming and going from London Heathrow, Britain’s largest and busiest airport. Gillard and Claire were met at reception by the firm’s operations chief Morag Fairburn, this time more formally dressed in a dark waistcoat and trousers with an orange blouse to match her hair, which was today held back in a ponytail.

‘It still hasn’t really hit me,’ she said. ‘The staff are all in shock too. She was very popular, you know. A feminist icon in a sense, particularly in Indian culture.’

Gillard thought he could listen to that soft Scottish voice all day.

‘Before I show you the plant can I offer you a tea or coffee?’

‘Is that lassi?’ Claire asked, looking at a saffron-coloured glass, standing half empty next to the water cooler. Morag turned to the Asian receptionist, who nodded.