‘That would be helpful. Thank you.’

‘We had the wedding on the Saturday and we did warn the guests that there would be a certain amount of disruption. For example, we closed the spa early on the Friday evening so that we could give all the staff a drink, outside beside the swimming pool. We wanted them to feel part of the celebration even if they weren’t actually coming to the wedding itself. The staff drinks started at eight thirty and finished at ten o’clock.’

‘Was Stefan invited?’

‘Yes. He was there. So were Aiden and Cecily. Pauline and myself. Lisa … ’

Lisa’s plus one, or rather his absence, hung in the air.

‘It was a very warm evening. In fact, you may remember that there was quite a heatwave that summer.’

‘It was a horrible, hot, sticky night,’ Lisa said. ‘I couldn’t wait to get home.’

‘Lisa doesn’t live on the estate,’ Lawrence said, adding, ‘although she could. The grounds extend to almost three hundred acres.’

‘Aiden and Cecily have my old place,’ Lisa muttered, sourly.

‘Branlow Cottage,’ I said.

‘I moved into Woodbridge, which suits me very well. I left the drinks a long time before ten o’clock. I drove home and went to bed.’

‘I’m going to leave Derek to tell you the rest,’ Lawrence said. ‘He’s the night manager and he arrived at about the same time. He wasn’t at the party.’

‘He wasn’t invited?’

‘Of course he was invited but Derek doesn’t like to socialise. You’ll understand when you meet him. He was actually behind reception when the murder took place.’

‘When was that?’

‘According to the police, Parris was killed around twelve thirty on Friday night.’

‘Were you here, Lawrence?’

‘No. Pauline and I bought a house in Southwold when we stopped running the hotel. We went home for the night.’

‘But we were all there for the wedding the next day,’ Lisa said. ‘It was such a lovely day … until, of course, there was a murder. Poor Aiden! I’m sure it wasn’t what he was buying into.’

‘Really, Lisa, that’s too much,’ Lawrence protested.

‘All I’m saying is that Cess was his meal ticket. What was he doing before he met her? Nothing! He was an estate agent.’

‘He was doing very well. And he was a great help to us here at the hotel, whatever you may say,’ Lawrence tut-tutted. ‘Anyway, I think it’s hardly appropriate to talk in this way, given how worried we all are about Cecily.’

‘I’m worried about her too!’ Lisa exclaimed and to my surprise I saw tears start in her eyes and I knew she was telling the truth. The waiter had arrived with her second whisky and she snatched it off the tray. ‘Of course I’m worried about her. She’s my sister! And if something’s happened to her – that’s too horrible to think about.’

She gazed into her drink. The three of us sat in silence.

‘What do you remember about the wedding?’ I asked.

‘It was a wedding like any other. We have weddings here all the time. They’re our bread and butter.’ She took a breath. ‘The service was in the rose garden. I was the maid of honour. We had the registrar from Ipswich, then lunch in a marquee on the main lawn. I was sitting next to Aiden’s mother who had come down from Glasgow.’

‘Was his father there?’

‘His father died when Aiden was quite young. Cancer. He has a sister but she wasn’t invited. Actually, there was hardly anyone on his side of the family. Mrs MacNeil was quite sweet, a bit of an old lady, very Scottish. I was thinking how boring the whole thing was when I heard screaming coming from somewhere outside the tent and a few minutes later Helen came in, looking like she’d just seen a ghost.’

‘Helen?’

‘She was head of housekeeping. It turned out that one of the maids had just gone into room twelve and had found Frank Parris with his skull smashed in and bits of brain all over the sheets.’ Lisa was almost gloating. Despite what she had said earlier, she couldn’t help herself from being amused by the total destruction of her sister’s big day. Looking at her, I wondered if she wasn’t a little bit unhinged.

‘The maid was called Natasha,’ Lawrence cut in. ‘She’d gone in to clean the room and she discovered the body.’

Lisa downed her whisky in one. ‘I don’t know what you hope to find, Susan. Stefan admitted to the crime and now he’s got what he deserves. It’ll be ten years before they even think of letting him out again and serves him right. As for Cess, she’ll turn up when it suits her. She likes being the centre of attention. She’s probably just playing the drama queen.’

She got unsteadily to her feet and I realised she must have been drinking before she arrived and that the two double whiskies had supplemented many others. ‘I’ll leave the two of you together,’ she said.

‘Lisa, you should eat.’

‘I’m not hungry.’ She leaned towards me. ‘You’re responsible for Cecily,’ she snarled. ‘You published the fucking book. You find her.’

Lawrence watched her as she wove her way across the dining room. ‘I’m sorry about that,’ he said. ‘Lisa works very hard. She’s actually responsible for the entire running of the hotel. But she can get a bit tired.’

‘She doesn’t seem to like her sister very much.’

‘You shouldn’t take any notice of that. Lisa just likes to show off.’ He was trying to convince me but he didn’t even sound very convinced himself. ‘It started when they were very young,’ he admitted. ‘There was always a lot of rivalry between them.’

‘How did she get that scar?’

‘Ah, I thought you might ask about that.’ He was reluctant to tell me. I waited. ‘I’m afraid that was Cecily. It was a complete accident, but … ’ He let out a breath. ‘Lisa was twelve and Cecily was ten and they had an argument. Cecily threw a kitchen knife at her. She really didn’t mean it to hit her sister. It was just a stupid, childish thing to do when she lost her temper, but the blade absolutely sliced into Lisa and … well, you’ve seen the result. Cecily was terribly upset.’

‘What were they arguing about?’

‘Does it really matter? Boys, probably. They were always jealous of each other’s boyfriends. I mean, that’s quite common with young girls. Cecily was always the better-looking of the two and if she met someone it would infuriate Lisa. That’s why she’s taken against Aiden, incidentally. What she said about him – it’s just jealousy. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with him, really. He and I have always got along.’

He picked up his wine glass.

‘Girls will be girls!’

He said it as a toast but I didn’t join in. Girls might be girls, but not, I thought, borderline psychotics. Lisa had been disfigured by Cecily. She had a serious grudge against Aiden. And that grudge, all tied up with some sort of sexual jealousy, might have extended to Stefan Codrescu too.

Serious or murderous?

Which?

The Night Manager

I didn’t eat very much dinner. I was stung by what Lisa had said to me and wondered if it was true: I had never unleashed Alan Conway on Branlow Hall but it was undoubtedly true that I had profited by what he had done. Like it or not, I was partly to blame.

After coffee, Lawrence took me out through the kitchen and I noticed the service staircase and the lift leading up to the second floor. We emerged round the back of the hotel and, looking across the courtyard, I saw the driveway that led to Branlow Cottage. There were lights on behind some of the windows. The black Range Rover was still parked outside.

‘It’s been absolute hell for Aiden,’ Lawrence said. ‘The moment he reported Cecily missing, he turned himself into the main suspect. It’s always the husband in cases like this. But I can’t bring myself to believe that he would do anything to hurt my daughter. I’ve seen them together. I know what they mean to each other.’

‘They only have one child?’ I said.

‘Yes. I was a little sad about that. But it was a difficult birth and I think Cecily just didn’t want to go through it all again. Anyway, she was so busy running the hotel.’

‘You said that Roxana is seven.’ I’d already done the maths. ‘When is her birthday?’

Lawrence knew what I was getting at. ‘Cecily was already expecting her when she got married – but that wasn’t the reason for it. Young people these days don’t feel under pressure … not like we did. Aiden’s devoted to his daughter. Right now, she’s the only thing keeping him sane.’

‘Do you think he’ll mind talking to me?’ It was something that had been worrying me. I was here because I’d been asked to read a book which might or might not be connected to a murder that had taken place eight years before. That was one thing. Interrogating a grieving husband about his missing wife was quite another.

‘I’m sure he’ll be glad to talk to you. I can ask him if you like.’