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before he can get his hands on the pathologist’s report.’
    ‘And your problem?’
    ‘I’ve got twenty-four hours before I have to decide what needs to be in that report.’
    ‘Does Warwick know who killed the ex-wife?’
    ‘He can’t be sure. There are five suspects at the moment, and every one of them has a motive . . . and an alibi.’
    ‘But I presume you know who did it?’
    ‘No I don’t,’ Harry admitted. ‘Because if I don’t know, then neither can the reader.’
    ‘Isn’t that a bit of a risk?’
    ‘Sure is. But it also makes it a damn sight more challenging, both for me and the reader.’
    ‘I can’t wait to read the first draft.’
    ‘Neither can I.’
    ‘Sorry. I’ll let you get back to your ex-wife’s body in the lake. I’ll call again in a week’s time to see if you’ve worked out who dumped her
there.’
    When Guinzburg hung up, Harry replaced the receiver and looked down at the blank sheet of paper in front of him. He tried to concentrate.
    So what’s your opinion, Percy?
    Too early to make an accurate assessment. I’ll need to get her back to the lab and carry out some more tests before I can give you a considered judgement.
    When can I expect to get your preliminary report? asked Warwick.
    You’re always so impatient, William . . .
    Harry looked up. He suddenly realized who’d committed the murder.

    Although Emma hadn’t been willing to accept Sebastian’s suggestion that she should co-opt Giles and Grace on to the board to ensure she couldn’t lose the
crucial vote, she still considered it her duty to keep her brother and sister up-to-date on what was going on. Emma was proud to represent the family on the board, although she knew only too well
that neither of her siblings was particularly interested in what went on behind closed doors at Barrington’s, as long as they received their quarterly dividends.
    Giles was preoccupied with his responsibilities at the House of Commons, which had become even more demanding after Hugh Gaitskell had invited him to join the Shadow Cabinet, to cover the
European portfolio. This meant that he was rarely seen in his constituency, despite being expected to nurse a marginal seat while at the same time regularly visiting those countries that had a vote
on whether Britain should be allowed to join the EEC. However, Labour had been ahead in the opinion polls for several months, and it was looking increasingly likely that Giles would become a
Cabinet minister after the next election. So the last thing he needed was to be distracted by ‘trouble at t’mill’.
    Harry and Emma were delighted when Giles had finally announced his engagement to Gwyneth Hughes, not in
The Times’
social column, but at the Ostrich public house in the heart of
his constituency.
    ‘I want to see you married before the next election,’ declared Griff Haskins, his constituency agent. ‘And if Gwyneth could be pregnant by the first week of the campaign, that
would be even better.’
    ‘How romantic,’ Giles sighed.
    ‘I’m not interested in romance,’ said Griff. ‘I’m here to make sure you’re still sitting in the House of Commons after the next election, because if
you’re not, you sure as hell won’t be in the Cabinet.’
    Giles wanted to laugh, but he knew Griff was right.
    ‘Has a date been fixed?’ asked Emma, who had strolled across to join them.
    ‘For the wedding, or the general election?’
    ‘For the wedding, idiot.’
    ‘May the seventeenth at Chelsea Register Office,’ said Giles.
    ‘Bit of a contrast from St Margaret’s, Westminster, but at least this time Harry and I can hope to receive an invitation.’
    ‘I’ve asked Harry to be my best man,’ said Giles. ‘But I’m not so sure about you,’ he added with a grin.

    The timing could have been better, but the only chance Emma had to see her sister was on the evening before the crucial board meeting. She had already been in touch with those
directors who she was