He brought the car to a halt. They were in a residential street, which the satnav showed was just over a mile from her home. ‘You can walk from here.’

‘What?’

‘You heard. Please get out. You’ve overstepped the mark.’

She smiled wickedly. ‘Oh gosh, poor you, you were really trying for children, weren’t you?’

‘It’s none of your business.’

‘You don’t even have a sense of humour?’

‘Not during working hours, no.’

She eased herself out, then leaned back in towards him. ‘It was just a joke. I know that you’re going to be a dad. Mid-September Sam’s due, isn’t she?’

Impossible.

Just impossible. Gillard could not believe she could know this. Sam had been very careful not to tell anyone at this early stage when the baby was due. Maybe Prisha was just guessing, but it would be a pretty wild guess to make. The detective tried to keep his amazement from his face, but he could read in hers the smug satisfaction of a bullseye.

‘Would you please arrange to get my car returned to me?’

‘You’re pushing your luck, Ms Roy. Your home is that way.’ He pointed, as he watched her stalk away on her stiletto heels. ‘You’re unlikely to be mugged, but if you are, please dial 999.’

‘Be careful of your wife,’ Prisha hissed. ‘A lot could go wrong between now and September.’

Chapter 12

The detective leaned across and pulled the door closed, then pulled a sharp U-turn before accelerating along the leafy road. It was only when an elderly lady walking her dog looked up in alarm that he realised he was exceeding forty miles per hour, well above the speed limit. Time to cool it. He pulled over, took a couple of deep breaths, then rang Sam. He knew she would not be happy about this. Not happy at all.

‘No way, Craig. I haven’t told anybody,’ she said. ‘The only person who knows when I’m due is my doctor. I’m not even showing.’ After a short and uncomfortable conversation, the detective apologised to his wife for his abruptness, and then hung up. Something Sam said remained in his mind. That woman is trying to get under your skin. I have a feeling she is succeeding. It would suit him perfectly if Prisha Roy had murdered her mother, or even attempted to poison her, but he had to admit that just because she was an arrogant bitch, that was no reason to suspect her. He needed more.

But somehow he had to find out how she had dug up so much information about him. Including the expected arrival date of their baby.

On the ninety-minute return journey to Mount Browne, Gillard realised he hadn’t eaten anything since last night. He considered the implications of the DNA test on the murder weapon. This had been the biggest chance of a smoking gun, but it wasn’t to be. If Jason Waddington had handled the gym weight, he must have been wearing gloves. In any event it simply weakened the case against the man. But as it was not any of the Roy children either that put a further wedge between the family and whoever murdered Mrs Roy.