‘How could you have?’ He smiled weakly. ‘Forensics are in Morahan’s office and they want to go through Legal and Archive too.’ Sylvia Labone had parked herself in a corner, peering, as far as Sara could see, over half-moon spectacles at The Times crossword.

‘They’ll do a sweep through Pamela’s office too,’ he said, quietly enough for the words to drift no further.

‘Why bother with that?’ asked Sara with the same caution.

‘Every stone will be turned, I guess,’ said Patrick. ‘As our friendly copper warned last night.’

‘Where is Pamela?’

‘Home Office. They must be hopping around like crickets. Chirruping away.’

‘What’s been said to the staff?’

‘The bare bones. They’ve been asked to stick around so a note can be taken of names, roles and their movements yesterday.’

‘What are the police saying?’

‘I saw Buttler briefly – thought I should get in early – they’ll be calling it an “unexplained death”. I said why not “accidental” and he gave me a world-weary look. He’s gone back to Kennington.’

‘So we sit and wait.’

The main office phone rang, startling her. ‘For you, Sara,’ said Clovis.

‘Who?’

‘Didn’t say.’

‘Didn’t you ask?’

‘She sounded trembly.’

‘Oh for—’ Sara stopped herself and walked over. ‘Hello, who is this?’ She cupped her hand over the mouthpiece and frowned at Patrick. ‘Yes, I’m sure that will be fine. I can’t see why not… Yes, right away.’

She put the phone down, Patrick now at her side with raised eyes. ‘Lady Morahan. She asked me if I could possibly pop over.’

‘Interesting,’ he said. ‘I’ll drive you if you like.’

‘No. I’ll walk out and hail a cab. No footprint. If I’m careful.’

‘I’ll see you out.’ She frowned. ‘It’s oppressive in there,’ he finally said as they walked down the stairs.

‘Sure.’

He noticed her distance. ‘It’s OK, I won’t linger.’ She cast him a half-smile as he swung open the main door.

A second police car was drawing up to the entrance. Forensics, Sara assumed. Suddenly she was half-blinded by three quick flashes coming from a single direction. She turned to Patrick, a question in her eyes.

‘Shit,’ he said. ‘First of the paparazzi. Never thought it would be this quick.’

‘Must have been a leak,’ she said.

‘More likely a sharp-eyed security guard. All the comings and goings. Easy way to make a few quid.’

‘Can you distract the photographer while I get away?’

‘I’ll try.’ He paused. ‘But just in case, don’t get caught smiling.’

She swivelled and marched off, detecting the heat of more flashes behind her.