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‘I think Fleur should write a novel, Inspector Green. Her imagination to tell a story is amazing. If there were rotten oysters around, I suspect it was some lazy local . . . perhaps those teenage boys you told us about, Fleur, who were always trying to sneak a peek into the mortuary?’

Green shrugged, his expression suggesting to Fleur that Irma’s explanation certainly sounded reasonable – and it did.

Irma pressed her point. ‘I don’t know why you’re doing this, Fleur, unless it’s about your father’s will. You see, Inspector, I think Fleur has always resented me being in Henry’s life. She’s rather obsessed with his property, his business, his bank account . . . always has been. Now that he’s passed on – bless his dear soul – I think she wants all of it. She wants to cut me out.’

Fleur flinched as though she’d been slapped. ‘How dare you.’

‘No, how dare you accuse me of hurting the only man I’ve ever loved. I’m a widow. I can barely believe it. I lost him just hours ago, and you callously load on these dreadful claims. I think my heart is going to stop from the shock of Henry’s death even without this ludicrous claim of poisoning. How can you make me go through this?’ She eyed them all, looking wild and frantic.

It was a masterful performance, Fleur thought, and she hoped the police weren’t falling for it.

‘DC Bowers, perhaps you might escort Mrs Appleby back into the other room, fetch her a nip of something. Please calm yourself, Mrs Appleby. I would like to speak with Miss Appleby alone for a few moments.’ Green took out a notebook and pen.

As Irma was escorted to the dining room, Inspector Green lifted his keen, blue-eyed gaze to Fleur’s. ‘We spoke to Dr Parsons on our arrival. I hope you don’t mind that he gave me a brief account of your accusation.’

Fleur gave a shrug. ‘Not at all. I’m sure Dr Parsons explained that he believes my father has died of liver failure complicated by food poisoning.’

It was the inspector’s turn to nod. ‘And, in your opinion, why is this not the case?’

Fleur paused to collect herself. She wanted to answer his question rationally and with a neutral tone. She knit her fingers to prevent waving her arms around with emotion; she needed to be cool and collected for this conversation. She explained about the oysters, and then took another deep breath. ‘If you ask our cook, she will corroborate what I’ve told you.’

‘Why didn’t you say something to your stepmother?’

‘I’d been complaining of a smell for a few days, and then our cook found the source of it – the oysters.’ He nodded. ‘It didn’t occur to me the real reason for their presence, not until I’d heard about my father’s food poisoning.’

‘But you already had suspicions?’

She nodded. ‘About Irma? Yes. She had been acting in a manner I believe was indeed suspicious. Inspector Green, on Tuesday night my father was fine. We shared a meal together and he seemed to be in very good spirits – more cheerful than I’ve seen him in a while.’

‘Why might that be?’

Fleur blushed, unexpectedly shy. ‘Because I’d just told him I’d met someone I like very much.’

‘I see.’

‘It didn’t please Irma, because she had plans for me to become engaged to someone else. Anyway, that’s irrelevant. I simply didn’t know his life was in such immediate jeopardy,’ Fleur answered, feeling her insides coil with tension. ‘I didn’t trust Irma, but I needed to confirm my suspicions that she wished to hasten my father’s death.’

‘And again, in your opinion, what was the original plan, the one that was moving more slowly?’

She took a steadying breath. ‘I believe Irma was using rat killer to slowly poison my father with arsenic. She had been patient. I believe she had been adding it regularly to his coffee, morning and night, for some time.’

‘You know this how?’

She told him about her father’s complaints, the order for more rat poison when there were no rats present, and how she tested her theory by switching the coffees. ‘It terrified Irma. She looked traumatised the evening I did that and immediately begged off, claiming she wasn’t feeling well and would go for a rest. My father, however, was thrilled that the coffee tasted so good; he was convinced we were using new beans. We weren’t. His coffee simply lacked the arsenic.’

‘This was that same evening?’

‘Yes, Tuesday.’ Fleur watched him note the date.

‘Why didn’t you come to the police with this notion?’

‘I suppose I hadn’t fully formulated my thoughts; I tested my theory barely a couple of days ago. As far as I’m concerned, that test confirmed – for me, anyway – that she was adding something to my father’s coffee that she wasn’t adding to hers. But I knew it sounded unconvincing without some proof.’

‘So you were waiting for proof?’

‘Yes – to catch her in the act, maybe, or to find a witness. I don’t know, to be honest.’ Fleur shook her head in a gesture of helplessness. ‘It was a notion, as you say. I was personally satisfied on Tuesday evening that I had her pinned, but imagine me giving you that tale, Inspector. By the time you had paid us a visit, the coffee would be thrown away, all trace of arsenic would be removed, as it surely already is, and Irma would quickly paint me – as she’s trying to right now – as the petulant daughter making wild accusations.’ She gave a sigh. ‘No, I knew I needed more, but I couldn’t have guessed about her plan to speed up his death with the fetid oysters. And she was cunning enough to allow me to fetch the oysters myself – fresh Coffin Bay oysters from the pub that has been supplying them for all my life.’

‘Dr Parsons said you were not here when your father passed away.’