Steph looked at the cupboard on her right. She had noticed it when she was in the office with Heidi. Steph opened the cupboard door and there on the shelf was a safe, about twice the size of one of those safes found in hotel rooms. It had an electronic keypad. Steph might be able to open a filing cabinet, but that was where her abilities ended. A digital code was way above her expertise.

Damn it.

There was no way she could guess it, and, even if she tried dates significant to the Sinclairs, it would be a long shot. She turned her attention back to the filing cabinet. Maybe there was something else of interest, although she doubted it. The files held mainly mundane staff details, delivery notes and day-to-day records relating to the running of the estate. She peered into the last drop folder in the drawer, which wasn’t labelled. A small black notebook was inside. Steph picked it up and opened it to the first page. It was a list of numbers followed by either the letters A, B or C. Nothing else, just numbers and letters.

‘Really?’ said Steph, astonished at the simplicity of it. ‘This is their code system?’ She gave a small laugh to herself. It wasn’t exactly high-tech.

Crouching down in front of the safe, she punched in the last code in the book. A green light appeared next to the keypad, followed by the sound of a click. It really was that simple. She was in the safe.

Steph gave a small gasp as she peered inside. On the bottom shelf, neatly bagged and stacked, were several piles of twenty- and fifty-pound notes. It certainly exceeded any petty cash Steph had seen before. What was it all doing in there when such a large sum would be better off in the bank? But then, that would mean having to declare it to the taxman. She couldn’t help wondering who knew about it. Conmere operated on a cash and card basis, and she suspected most of their clients would use their credit or debit card; she couldn’t imagine large amounts of cash would pass through the till, and besides, almost everything was paid for in the all-inclusive price tag.

Money laundering. The alternative crept up on her. Were the Sinclairs laundering money through the business and, if so, where from?

The idea sat uneasily with her as she considered who would know about it. She assumed Pru and all three brothers had access to the safe. She did a rough calculation of how much money was there – somewhere in the region of ten thousand pounds, she thought.

A noise from somewhere in the building startled her and she stilled, listening for another sound. Her heart beat furiously and her mouth dried. She listened even harder, but there was nothing.