‘And your statement has been checked, there’s nothing at all for you to worry about. I am not here to ask you about the day the body was found, I want to know about the time before . . . weeks before.’

They were standing face-to-face in the tiny space but now Wang Lin got a high stool from the stockroom. He wiped it with a sheet of paper from a kitchen roll before inviting Denzil to sit.

‘You own the flat above the shop?’

‘No. I don’t own the shop either. I rent, but I am a tenant on a lease of thirty years. Six have passed.’

‘So you sublet the flat, you don’t live there yourself?’

‘No, I live in Bevham, but the flat is nothing to do with me. I just know that it’s been empty for a while.’

‘So you didn’t let the place to the young man who –’

‘No, never. I have already said all of this.’

‘Have you seen his photograph?’

Mr Wang held up his hands. ‘Please, not again. So horrible and so sad, it was very hard to look, but I don’t know him, I never saw him in my life, so far as it was possible to tell. Yes, it is a very shocking photograph.’

‘How do you think he got into the flat? Did he break the door down, or a window?’

‘I have already told this . . . there was no sign of breaking in. Maybe someone gave him a key?’

‘Do you have a key?’

‘No, no. I am sorry.’

‘That’s all right, don’t worry, Mr Wang, no one is blaming you for anything. Now, I presume you’re only here in the day, during shop hours, but do you ever hear anything, maybe footsteps, people moving about, sounds that might make you think someone could be dossing up there?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Any car parked outside the entrance to the flat?’

‘Oh, anyone could do that, parking is allowed. Different cars come and go there all the time, sometimes shoppers, sometimes people who work in Starly.’

‘Do you remember the people who rented it in the past? Did you see the tenants much?’

Wang did not reply for a moment. Denzil watched his face but read nothing.

‘Would you recognise them if they came into the shop?’

Wang took off his glasses and wiped them on another sheet of the paper towel. He looked troubled.

‘I don’t know. But why? I don’t want anyone brought in here, do you understand? I want nothing that could make trouble for me. I have a good business, people come from a long way sometimes, I am a trained herbalist, I am well respected.’

‘There won’t be any trouble, the most that would happen at this stage is some photographs would be shown to you, see if you recognise anyone. We might get lucky.’