I mashed the accelerator to the floor in the BMW, wishing I'd borrowed RJ's Porsche so I could have shaved two minutes off my journey into town. I hadn't wanted to leave Rania alone at Daylesford Hall, but I couldn't afford to pass up the chance to speak to Aiden. Why had he suddenly reappeared and gone to the cinema? That was hardly the action of a guilty man.

RJ couldn't tell me what film Aiden had gone to see, so I bought a flat white in the coffee shop some enterprising soul had opened in the foyer of the Odeon and found myself a table overlooking the escalator that brought the moviegoers back from the screens. Please, say I hadn't missed the guy.

Ten minutes passed, then twenty, and I was just studying the film listings on my phone to see what was on when I caught sight of Aiden coming towards me from Screen Four, head down and shoulders slumped. He was alone, and he looked thoroughly miserable considering he'd just watched—I quickly checked the schedule—the new James Bond movie.

I fell into step behind him, then accidentally-on-purpose bumped into him as we both went to open the same door.

"Sorry, I— Aiden?"

He gave me that blank look. You know, the one where you have no idea who a person is, but you desperately don't want to admit that? Then it came to him, and relief washed over his face, quickly followed by the shutters coming down.

"You're that detective."

"Will Lawson. How are things going?"

"Okay," he said, but he sounded far from sure about that.

"Really? I thought you might still be struggling to get over the death of your girlfriend."

He stopped dead in his tracks, exactly as I'd hoped. First, his face paled to a deathly white, then brightened to red, and he glanced around at the thinning crowd in the cinema. No, still too many people. He didn't dare make a scene. So he tried for denial instead.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Let me refresh your memory. Wednesday evenings, the Lanefield Park Hotel, Helene, room service, a little—"

"Stop!" Now his eyes glistened as he battled the full spectrum of emotions.

"We need to talk. You've lied to me, you've lied to the police, and I'm betting you're smart enough to understand that's bumped you right to the top of the suspect list."

"I didn't kill Helene!" A couple of people turned to stare, and Aiden lowered his voice. "I loved her."

He tried to push past me, and a woman who reminded me of my high school biology teacher glared as he bumped her arm.

"If you don't talk to me, you'll have to talk to the police, and I doubt they'll be so understanding about your bullshit."

Aiden hesitated.

"And if you tell me the truth, I can help. I want to see Helene's killer caught as much as you do."

He turned back and wiped his face with his sleeve. "Can we talk somewhere else?"

His voice cracked, and I would have felt sorry for him if he hadn't potentially held up the investigation by weeks. After all, he'd lost the girl he cared for, loved even, no matter how underhand their relationship might have been. If I lost Rania, devastated wouldn't even begin to cover it.

"Sure. How about Jeanne's Café?"

Aiden wrinkled his nose in distaste, the asshole. Jeanne's may have been past its best, but back when I'd been a copper, she always welcomed us with open arms and a free cuppa on a cold night. Even now, I still stopped in for a drink or a fry-up to support her, and I knew she'd have a quiet table free at this time of night. Private, but not too private. If Aiden was a killer, I didn't want to invite him back to my place for an intimate tête-à-tête.

"I suppose Jeanne's will do," Aiden said, shrugging.

Too damn right it would.

Five minutes later, we were tucked into a corner after Jeanne had laughed off Aiden's request for an Americano and poured him a strong black coffee from the filter jug.

"Go on." I leaned back in my wobbly chair. "This had better be good."

Aiden picked at the corner of a packet of sugar. At first, I feared he wasn't going to speak, but there was only so long a person could bottle up all the shit inside.

"I started seeing Helene two years ago. Right after the company Christmas party. We'd both had too much to drink, and when we...when we woke up together, I should have been horrified. But she had this sweet side she kept hidden, and before I knew it, we were sneaking off every moment we could. Except we almost got caught by a friend of Helene's mother, and that was when we started with our evening arrangement."

"How did Derek fit into this? Were you planning to keep screwing after the wedding?"

Aiden cringed then stared into his cup. "Helene didn't love Derek. They got on okay, but she was only marrying him because her father insisted. Derek's father has connections, you see, and Lloyd Weston wanted to use them to expand the company. He threatened to cut Helene out of his will if she didn't help."

Cold, damn cold. "He didn't mention that to me."

Aiden barked out a harsh laugh. "Well, he wouldn't, would he? Lloyd Weston likes everyone to think he's a caring, sharing guy, but he's only out for what he can get. There's no way he'd have let me marry Helene without her having to suffer the consequences."

"What consequences?"

"He'd have fired both of us out of spite, and Helene worked damn hard to build that business. Her good-for-nothing brother would have got the lot, and all the profits would have got pissed up walls."

"So, what was your plan? Long-term, I mean."

"Lloyd wasn't getting any younger, and once Helene got her rightful share of Weston Corp, she was planning to get a divorce."

Arranging the divorce before the wedding? Nice. So far, I'd struggled to see Helene's so-called sweet side.

"And what about Derek? He was just supposed to step aside?"

"I doubt he'd have been that bothered. After all, I saw him and that blonde yoga teacher sneaking out of the disabled toilet at the company's summer barbecue, and he still had his fly undone."

Fucking hell. Was everyone in Weston Corp shagging someone they shouldn't have been? Management's exploits made Martha the receptionist look tame. And worse, if what Aiden said was true and Derek realised Helene and her father were both using him, it gave him a motive for her murder too.

"An interesting tale. But why should I believe it? We've still got the fact that you lied about everything else, and you don't have an alibi for the night of Helene's death."

"Actually, I do. I drove to Nottingham to check out a hotel. I wanted to take Helene somewhere special for her birthday next month."

"You mean to say I've wasted a week trying to track you down, and you could just have eliminated yourself in the first place."

"But I couldn't. When the manager showed me around the Royal Suite, I mentioned Helene's name a time or two, and I couldn't risk that getting back to Weston. Helene may be gone, but I still need my job, and besides, I didn't want to tarnish her memory."

"Give me the details. I'll need to check it out myself."

I pulled out my phone, and Aiden raised an eyebrow. "What, now?"

"No time like the present." I pushed a napkin and pen towards him. "Do me a favour and write everything down. The hotel, the phone number, the name of the person you spoke to."

While Aiden scribbled, I dialled RJ, who sounded thrilled to hear from me at this time of the evening.

"Tell me you're phoning to find out what topping I want on my pizza."

"I don't need to call for that. You have the same every time—pepperoni with mushrooms and peppers."

"So what do you want?"

"Got a minute to check an alibi for me?"

"Only because I want this case to be over just as much as you. Shannon's worried about Rania. But if it takes more than half an hour, I'll have to finish it later, because I've got a conference call with a bunch of Russians to discuss a possible joint venture. These negotiations have been going on for months. Sometimes, I'm tempted to slip them fifty grand through the backchannels and avoid all the bullshit."

"Bribery?"

"Yeah. My competitors still do it, but I always swore Wonderland Enterprises would stay above board. That and I don't fancy going to prison. Go on then, what do you want me to do?"

I read out the details Aiden had given me—the Sherwood Luxe Hotel and Spa—but even as I spoke, my mind was churning. What if we'd been going about this totally wrong? This whole time, we'd been hunting for a thief, but what if the money that went missing from Weston Corp didn't get stolen at all?

"Are you all right?" Aiden asked. "You look kind of spacey."

What if the money had been used as a payoff, and Arthur was murdered so he'd take the truth to the grave?

"How long have you worked at Weston Corp?"

"Thirteen years. I started as a marketing assistant. Why?"

"Twelve years ago, did the company sign any big new contracts?"

"What's that got to do with Helene's death?"

"Maybe nothing. I'm not sure. The contracts?"

Aiden rearranged the ketchup sachets in the basket at the side of the table as he thought, and I wanted to shake the answer out of him.

"We got hired by the Mongolian government around that time, to advise on the construction of a hydropower dam on the Eg River." Aiden shook his head. "I still remember Lloyd Weston making the announcement. Everyone thought he was joking at first, seeing as Weston Corp was the underdog in the tender process."

"How much was the contract worth?"

"Tens of millions. That was the project that turned Weston Corp into a global player."

"Who led the negotiations?"

"Lloyd Weston himself. Back then, he used to work rather than playing golf and taking three-hour lunches every day."

Shit, shit, shit. That had to be the answer! It all fitted. The way Lloyd kept the theft quiet rather than reporting it to the police. His reluctance to discuss the case. And he was a big guy, easily strong enough to have upended Arthur over the balcony. Even now he kept in shape. Which meant... Fuck! Rania was alone at Daylesford Hall.

"I've got to go."

"You've uncovered a clue?"

"Sort of. There was another murder at Daylesford Hall, twelve years ago."

"What murder? I don't remember a murder."

"Arthur Brady."

"The guy who went over the balcony? I thought that was suicide?"

"So did everybody else. But..." Should I trust Aiden? Instinct told me he was being truthful now we'd uncovered his secret, and he spoke of Helene with a fondness I couldn't understand. Not when she'd been so bitchy to Rania. And there was no love lost between him and Weston senior. "I think Lloyd Weston may have helped Arthur to take a nosedive."

"Are you serious?"

"Unfortunately, yes."

Aiden nodded slowly. "I guess I could see that happening. Lloyd may be lazy, but he's got a ruthless streak he tries to hide. When Helene was thirteen, he had one of her teachers fired for— Wait! Where are you going?"

"My girlfriend's on her own at Daylesford Hall."

And I needed to make sure she was safe until this investigation was over. She'd have to take time off work. Call in sick, or just quit. I could borrow money from RJ to tide us over, and...

"I'll come with you."

"I don't need—" On second thoughts, an extra pair of hands could come in useful. "Can you call Lloyd Weston while I drive? I want to know where he is."

I'd parked in a metered bay on the next street, and Aiden jogged behind me as I headed for the car, trying to convince myself that I was overreacting. Rania would be fine. I'd been away from her for less than an hour, and Lloyd Weston was probably relaxing in a high-backed leather armchair, drinking Scotch.

"No answer," Aiden said. "Odd. He always picks up."

Dammit. I ran faster.