‘I did look at one set of emails, which Harry Roy had drawn to our attention. She had been sent some unwelcome tweets about a year ago at the time of the Cook Off competition. They were of a sexual nature, but she apparently didn’t report them to the police at the time. According to him, they ceased after about six months. I have got a request in with Twitter to trace the origin.’

Philippa Boswell lived in large mock-Tudor detached house in Camberley, a little more grandiose than DI Claire Mulholland had expected, even for the PA to the boss of a large company. Mrs Boswell invited the detective into a very luxurious kitchen. She was a tall, handsome woman in her sixties, with long, wavy silver hair that managed to look glamorous. She had very blue eyes and fine cheekbones.

‘I’m sorry I wasn’t there, I was just so upset,’ she said. ‘Mrs Roy was always very good to me, and I am just incredibly shocked at what happened.’ It was only when she walked across the kitchen to make the detective a coffee that Claire noticed the difficulty Mrs Boswell had in walking.

‘Was it very demanding, working for her?’

‘Yes and no. She was always travelling about, and I sort of acted as a fixed point of contact for her. She had been spending a lot of time in Redhill in recent months, and she left me to hold the fort so to speak. She didn’t mind that I couldn’t physically be with her, given my blasted arthritis.’ The woman appraised Claire and answered the unspoken question. ‘I used to be the secretary to the chief executive of British Airways twenty-five years ago, so I know all about pressure and performance. I started out as what they called a trolley dolly on long haul. Two grown-up kids, one husband, still,’ she smiled. ‘Happily married to a retired pilot with a good pension.’ She gestured to the home around her. ‘No mortgage, no debts, no drug or gambling habits. No incentive for murder.’

Claire couldn’t help but laugh. ‘Thank you for those details.’

‘I read a lot of crime fiction, an awful lot. I know how you work. By the way, I’ve not been able to ride a bicycle for at least a decade.’

‘You’re not a suspect, Mrs Boswell. We just need to know a bit more about her movements.’

‘Well, I emailed her work diary and contact list to your colleague Craig Gillard first thing this morning. I also have a pretty encyclopaedic knowledge of the family demands upon her, so I’m happy to help in that direction.’

Claire noticed the flicker in the woman’s eyes, and asked: ‘One of the more challenging parts of the job?’

‘I suppose so. Harry wasn’t demanding, though he’s quite forgetful, so needs a fair amount of managing. I take a leaf out of his mother’s book and generally just tell him what to do. He’s often out at nightclubs – carousing until the early hours – and then yawns all day. He’s a sweet man, but I think he’s bored with the job, and would prefer to be playing cricket, or racing on his speedboat. The daughters are a bit more tricky, particularly the elder one, Prisha. The way she ordered us all about, well. We call her the maharani—’