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fast. I’ve often told her to slow down. I knew something like this would happen.’
    Interesting reaction , I thought. Why should he assume that a senior detective from the Yard would be involved in telling relatives about a fatal traffic accident? Perhaps he watches too much television.
    ‘No, Mr Hammond, she was murdered, here at the airport.’
    Hammond’s mouth dropped open. ‘Murdered? Who murdered her? Was it a robbery?’
    ‘We’re still attempting to establish who murdered her and why, but I’m satisfied that robbery wasn’t the motive. Your wife was in possession of a substantial sum of money, her credit cards, and some quite expensive jewellery, all of which we found with her.’
    ‘I can’t believe it. Why? Why should anyone want to kill Kerry?’
    ‘I was hoping that you might be able to help me there, Mr Hammond,’ I said. ‘As I understand it, you were meant to meet your wife here on Christmas Eve and that you and she had planned to go to New York together.’
    ‘Yes, that’s quite right, but I had a last minute business meeting in London, and to make matters worse the bloody deal fell through. I’d telephoned her early that afternoon asking her to meet me here, but she didn’t show up.’
    ‘But you went to New York, nevertheless,’ said Dave incredulously. He obviously found such behaviour difficult to understand.
    ‘Yes. I rang her again from here, several times, but I got no answer from her mobile. I left her ticket with the check-in people and asked them to tell her to get the flight if she made it in time, or to get the next available one if there was a spare seat. But I heard nothing. Aircraft at this time of year are usually fully booked, though, and I presumed that she couldn’t get a flight. I tried ringing her mobile again from New York, but there was still no answer.’
    ‘Did it not occur to you that perhaps you should’ve waited, Mr Hammond?’ I suggested. ‘That something might have happened to her.’
    Hammond gave me a baleful look. ‘If only I had,’ he said, ‘I might’ve prevented this awful tragedy.’
    ‘I doubt that you would’ve done,’ I said. ‘Mrs Hammond’s body was found in her car in one of the airport’s car parks. She’d been stabbed, and we think she was murdered shortly after arriving here on Christmas Eve. She didn’t even get the chance to make it to the terminal.’
    ‘But who would’ve done such a thing?’ Hammond shook his head in bewilderment as he repeated his question.
    ‘Did the two of you often travel to places separately?’ asked Dave. ‘Or was this a one-off?’
    ‘We’re both heavily involved in businesses of our own,’ said Hammond. ‘I’m an estate agent with offices in the West End, and Kerry’s the owner of a very successful haulage business.’
    ‘Does the name Gary Dixon mean anything to you?’ I asked, hoping that by a change of questioning I’d catch Hammond on the hop.
    But he answered without hesitation; in fact, almost too quickly, and that made me suspicious. ‘No, should it? Why d’you ask?’
    ‘No particular reason,’ I said. ‘It’s just a name that came up in the course of our enquiries.’ I had no intention of telling Hammond of the frequent telephone calls that Dixon had made to Kerry Hammond’s mobile, even after he’d been sacked by Bernard Bligh. It was quite possible that Kerry and Dixon were having an affair that Hammond knew nothing about, and I had no wish to add to his distress. ‘Or Miguel Rodriguez? Does that name mean anything to you?’
    ‘Oh yes, I know him,’ said Hammond. ‘He owns the Spanish Fly nightclub in Mayfair. Kerry and I often went there, when we had the time. We both have pretty heavy schedules.’
    I stood up. ‘I don’t think there’s anything else to ask you at the moment, Mr Hammond, but we shall need to see you again.’
    ‘Of course.’
    ‘There is one other thing. If you have no objection, I’ll need to see your wife’s bank statements at some