They were taken to a rather more impressive door and shown in to see the permanent secretary to the Treasury, Sir Anthony Clough. He rose to greet them. A very guarded man, Quill thought: big smile on his face, but nothing in the eyes. He was large, had once been muscular, a big head with white hair around the temples. He’d served under both flavours of administration, was known to have an Olympian disregard for party politics and was, according to a senior Met colleague, ‘cruel, but fair’. Having exchanged pleasantries, he addressed himself to Lofthouse and asked what reason her people had for searching Spatley’s departmental and parliamentary offices, when they’d already been checked out once by the main inquiry. Lofthouse looked to Quill, who again trotted out that they were a special team with a special remit, and Lofthouse made the right noises to indicate that further questions, even from this level of seniority, wouldn’t be advisable.

Clough paused for a significant time when Quill asked him whether or not Spatley had any issues in his personal life. Lofthouse and Quill exchanged glances.

‘Michael Spatley was highly ethical. To a fault. But he’d recently been … distracted. He’d been delegating some of his parliamentary responsibilities to ministerial colleagues, often the sign of trouble at home.’

‘What sort of trouble?’

‘Oh, no, in this case, I don’t think it was.’

‘Sir,’ began Quill, ‘if you know of any dirty linen in, erm, the Cabinet…’ He mentally winced at his turn of phrase. ‘What I’m trying to say is, you can be sure of our tact, as far as it can go, and it’d actually be a service to the deceased if—’

‘We don’t, as a rule, let ministers with things going on in their lives get near the Cabinet. Though there have been exceptions. In Michael Spatley’s case, the only thing I can think of that might possibly be relevant is that, at parties, he would chat a little too long to charming young ladies.’

‘Are you saying he was having an affair?’

‘Absolutely not. I’m sure, in fact, that he wasn’t. But, and I hope you understand the subtlety and strength of our sensitivities in this area, I believe he might have liked to have been.’

Quill sighed. This man was sure he had powers in his own domain that equalled those of the Sight. Maybe he did. But it wasn’t the sort of thing likely to produce evidence. ‘Is there anything else about him you managed to … divine?’