‘That IP address has only ever visited the Post site a few times,’ said Toby. ‘But the moment the three different news alerts went out on those stories, that address clicked on.’

Hessa was behind Toby. ‘It’s called Tawton Court,’ she said. ‘It’s down in the New Forest. Owned through a company called Hestia Limited.’

‘Goddess of the hearth,’ recited Casey. ‘It would be. Any guesses about who really owns it?’

‘Nothing in cuts,’ said Hessa. ‘Although the locals might know. They almost always do.’

‘They won’t welcome calls right now though.’ Casey glanced up at the big clocks on the wall, showing the time in London, Sydney, Delhi, New York.

‘We could ask Carlos?’ Carlos ran the property pages for the Post. His children’s godparents were all estate agents.

‘I don’t think the agents would be thrilled to hear from him at this time of night either.’

‘Stay in this office,’ Dash had ordered. ‘Promise me, Casey?’

‘Probably.’ With her fingers crossed, and they both knew it.

Casey was calculating rapidly, thoughts whirling. ‘Hessa,’ she said. ‘What do we know about Clio now?’

Clio, muse of history.

There was a brief rustle of papers. ‘Clio’s mother comes from one of the Greek shipping families,’ said Hessa gingerly. ‘The Mantzaris family.’

‘Bugger,’ said Miranda. ‘How the hell did we miss that when we were checking Greystone?’

The Mantzaris family had the same stratospheric wealth as the Alexakis dynasty. Houses all around the world, and careless millions splashed for fun.

‘There’s very little available on Clio. Slightly more on her parents. Clio’s mother married the Hon Rupert Eyre.’ Hessa sounded apologetic. ‘So when we did a check, Clio showed up as growing up in the Home Counties, the daughter of Rupert and Helena Eyre. It all looked quite ordinary.’

There was a brief silence.

‘Never mind,’ said Casey. ‘The Mantzaris connection explains how Clio knew about the shipping industry, and shipbreaking.’

‘Yes,’ agreed Hessa.

‘And the Eyres had money either way?’ asked Miranda.

‘Some,’ said Hessa. ‘I mean, a lot by almost any standards. A nice house in Wiltshire. Mansion flat in London. Clio went to all the right schools, and I found a snap of the mother in Tatler.’

‘But not by Mantzaris standards?’

‘Exactly,’ said Hessa. ‘The mother was the youngest of four, and the only daughter.’

‘And the Greeks believe in keeping their fortunes intact,’ Miranda thought aloud. ‘A bit of the cash would have splashed out to Clio’s mother, but they don’t like to dilute things too much. The women were expected to marry well, anyway. ’

‘So Clio grew up within touching distance of unimaginable wealth,’ Miranda said slowly. ‘But not quite there.’

‘Well.’ Casey peered at the photographs of Tawton Court. ‘She’s certainly made up for it since.’