‘OK. I want to start with Aiden. He came to see you on the day Cecily disappeared.’

‘Yes. That’s right.’

‘Do you remember what time?’

Khan looked surprised at that, as if it wasn’t something I should have asked. ‘Five o’clock,’ he said. ‘It was a short meeting. A contract with a new supplier.’ He paused. ‘I hope you don’t think that he had anything to do with his wife’s disappearance.’

‘Not exactly, no. But the day before she went missing, Cecily rang her parents. She believed she’d found new evidence about the murder of Frank Parris eight years before and she didn’t tell Aiden—’

‘I think I should stop you there, Ms Ryeland. First of all, Mr MacNeil is a client of this firm, and anyway, he had absolutely no reason whatsoever to murder Frank Parris, if that’s what you’re suggesting.’

The door opened and the young woman from the reception desk came in with two mugs of tea and a bowl of sugar on a tray. The mugs were white with the logo W&K printed on the side.

‘What happened to Mr Wesley?’ I asked as he passed one of them over.

‘He retired.’ Khan smiled at the girl. ‘Thank you, Tina.’

I waited until she had gone, then continued more carefully. ‘Were you here in Framlingham at the time of the murder?’ I asked.

‘Yes. I was. As a matter of fact, I spoke to Mr Parris. We had a brief conversation the day before he died.’

‘Really?’ That came as a surprise.

‘Yes. I was asked to contact him on a personal matter. It was to do with an inheritance. I don’t need to go into the details.’

‘You were acting for Martin and Joanne Williams,’ I said. I was bluffing, really. I remembered seeing his business card in their kitchen and knew he had to be referring to them. ‘I went to Heath House,’ I added. ‘They explained it all to me.’

‘How are they?’

‘Very well. In fact, your ears should have been burning. They were very appreciative about what you did for them.’ Now I was outright lying. Martin and Joanne hadn’t told me anything very much. I just hoped that if I flattered Khan enough, I might draw some of the information out of him.

It worked. ‘Well, in the end I didn’t do very much for them,’ he said, but in a way that suggested how pleased he was with himself. ‘They told you about the house?’

‘Yes.’

‘The will was absolutely clear. Heath House was given fifty-fifty to the two children: Frank Parris and his sister. Just because Mr Parris had allowed them to live there, rent-free, since his mother’s death, I’m afraid that did not constitute an agreement, oral or otherwise. At no point had Mr Parris relinquished his rights.’

I was trying to keep a poker face but in fact Khan had just provided me with a piece of information that might change everything. ‘He had this idea of starting another agency and he wanted us to invest.’ That was what Martin had said, but he had been deliberately vague, borderline dishonest. Frank Parris had gone bust and he wanted his share of the house. That was the reason he had come to Suffolk. It might also be the reason why he was killed.

‘They do love that house,’ I said.

‘Oh yes. Joanne grew up in it. It’s a lovely place.’

Mrs Khan slid across the photograph frame, dressed in a swimming costume and holding a plastic spade.

‘So you spoke to Frank Parris,’ I went on.

‘I called him on his mobile. This was on the Friday, just after he had visited his sister. He was planning to put the house on the market with Clarke’s in Framlingham. I have to say that he was quite abrasive, but then I understand things hadn’t gone well for him in Australia. I asked him to give Mr and Mrs Williams a little more time to come to terms with the move and, for that matter, to find somewhere else to live. In this, I was partially successful. He still wanted to contact Clarke’s, but he agreed on a long exchange.’

‘They must have been very upset.’

‘Mrs Williams was not at all pleased.’ He added a heaped spoonful of sugar to his tea.

I could easily imagine it. ‘Piss off and leave us alone.’ I remembered her parting words. ‘They can’t have been too sorry when he was beaten to death,’ I remarked. I’d learned what I needed to know. There was no need to mince my words.

Khan looked suitably pained. ‘I’m not sure that’s true. They were family and they were close. Mr and Mrs Williams had lived rent-free for ten years. They really had nothing to complain about.’

I hadn’t drunk any of my tea but I didn’t want it. I was wondering if Martin or Joanne had popped into Branlow Hall at the time of the murder and how I could find out. Frank Parris might have told them which room he was staying in, but if either of them had decided to kill him, they would have needed to know how to find it. I tried to imagine one or even both of them creeping round the hotel with a hammer, accidentally stepping on Bear’s tail as they made their way along the corridor. Somehow, it felt unlikely. But there was nobody else with such an obvious motive.

‘Thank you very much, Mr Khan,’ I said. I got to my feet, ending the meeting.

He stood up too and we shook hands. ‘How is your sister?’ he asked.

‘I saw her yesterday. She’s very well, thank you.’

‘I hope things have worked out with Wilcox,’ he continued and then, seeing the look of surprise on my face: ‘But perhaps the two of you didn’t discuss it.’

‘Discuss what?’ I asked.

He smiled, trying to pretend that it was nothing very serious, but he had made a mistake and he knew it. He did his best to back-pedal. ‘Oh, I just gave her some advice,’ he said.

‘Is she a client?’

The smile was still there, but faltering. ‘You’d have to ask her that, Ms Ryeland. I’m sure you understand.’

If she wasn’t his client, he could simply have said so.

I had known that something was wrong after the evening I’d spent with Katie. Was Jack in some sort of trouble? Did she have money problems? What was it that she hadn’t told me? As I walked back to the car, Martin and Joanne Williams, Frank Parris, Branlow Court and even Cecily Treherne suddenly seemed less important.

My sister was in trouble. I needed to know why.

Martlesham Heath

I was on my way to London.

More emails had come in … though nothing from Andreas. That didn’t surprise me. He never responded very quickly at the best of times and he had a strange reticence when it came to matters that were personal or emotional. He needed time to think about things.

But James Taylor was thrilled I was back in the UK. We would be delighted to see me again and he would bring along anything he could find relating to Atticus Pünd Takes the Case. He suggested dinner at Le Caprice and I just hoped that he would be the one who picked up the bill. I had a meeting arranged with Lionel Corby at the gym where he now worked. And Michael Bealey had invited me for ‘a quick drink’ at Soho House in Greek Street.

Finally, I had called Craig Andrews. There was a possibility I might be in London for quite a few days and I wasn’t too tempted by the comforts of the Premier Inn. In his original email, he had offered me a room and I remembered visiting him once in a handsome Victorian house off Ladbroke Grove. The money hadn’t come from his books, incidentally, but from his former career in banking. The Christopher Shaw novels were solid, mid-list titles, nothing more, but they had given him the freedom to enjoy the money he had already made. Craig was more than pleased to put me up and it was good talking to him again on the phone, but why did I feel a pang of guilt as I hung up? It was ridiculous. All I was expecting was a spare room for a couple of nights and maybe supper and a shared bottle of wine.

I stopped off at Woodbridge before I hit the A12. I’d been just about presentable when I was at the hotel, and Katie, of course, hadn’t cared what I looked like, but there was no way I was walking into Le Caprice – or, for that matter, Craig’s house – in the clothes I’d brought with me. There were a couple of surprisingly good boutiques in the old square and I came away with a knee-length cocktail dress in midnight-blue velvet and a Ralph Lauren cotton jacket (25 per cent off). I’d spent much more than I’d intended, but I reminded myself of the money Lawrence owed me and just hoped it would arrive before my next credit card bill.