She was about to look at the seating plan when Carl came over and said she was on the end of the top table with him. In some ways she felt relieved. At least it was better than sitting with Smith and O’Reilly.

Jane looked at the menu card. A prawn cocktail starter, a main course of chicken breast with vegetables and boiled potatoes, followed by Black Forest gateau, then coffee, cheese and biscuits. As she put the card down on the table, she felt an eerie sense of unease, as if someone was watching her. She scanned the marquee and saw the man in the camel hair coat sitting at a table in the middle of the room. He was looking at her with his head tilted to one side and tapping his lips with his left index finger.

‘Who’s the chap that owns the Jensen?’ she asked Carl casually.

‘Tony. He’s a nice guy. He’s in the same Masons’ lodge as George. Lovely car, isn’t it? Me and Smudge do the servicing and MOT. He let me have a drive of it once; it’s fast but drinks petrol. I could ask him if he’d let me take you for a drive some time.’

‘That’d be nice.’

Jane was apprehensive about questioning Carl further about Tony. Knowing he was sitting at table 8, she thought she’d sneak a look at the seating plan by the marquee entrance to find out his surname.

‘I’m just going to the toilet.’

‘It’s in the hallway by the stairs,’ Carl told her.

She walked slowly, then stopped briefly by the seating plan, which had Mr A. Nichols where Tony was sitting. She went to the toilet, then returning to the marquee she suddenly felt her left wrist being grabbed from behind. She spun around, thinking it was Carl, and found herself face to face with Tony, who tightened his grip on her wrist.

‘Do I know you?’ he asked with a nasty expression.

‘Let go, you’re hurting me,’ she said, trying not to show she was scared.

He let go of her hand and smiled. ‘Sorry, I thought we might have met before.’

‘I don’t think so, you must have got me mixed up with someone else.’

‘Maybe, but I never forget a pretty face,’ he said, walking off to the marquee.

Jane was shaking, desperately trying to think where or when they might have met. She went back into the house to phone Teflon and, seeing the study room door open, made sure no one was about and nipped in. She picked up the phone and noticed a long metal case tucked under the large oak writing desk and gift-wrapping paper in the bin. She called Chigwell Police Station, then asked to be put through to the canteen and Teflon answered.

‘I need you to pick me up outside the house in about half an hour.’