But there is something about the image of the three people in the photograph that will not let me go and as I read the caption again, I move back towards the sofa, dragging the laptop charger with me, the sound of the television disappearing into the background as I begin to type notes.

James McCann is an associate at McCann Legal and Partner, off Queen Square in London. McCann trained as a solicitor before joining the firm in 2004.

In the official headshot accompanying his biography on the law firm’s website, it is hard to determine the colour of his eyes, which meet the camera’s lens with a self-assurance that is less debatable.

As I trawl through the pages on Google, as well as the usual social media sites, trying to throw up any more information about this man, the only trace I find of him is on LinkedIn, which simply states a repetition of the brief line on his firm’s website, as his job description. No background on his education. No former employers.

The frustration throbs at the front of my head. I could kill for a drink. Pinching the top of my nose between my thumb and forefinger, I close my eyes. How could it be that a lawyer at an apparently top-class firm, judging from its presentation, could be so invisible? Or rather, why? Most lawyers were like peacocks, desperate to be looked at. It wasn’t like he was a prosecution barrister, who might fear retribution from aggrieved clients.

From the little I have gauged about McCann, he is the signatory for PKI Ltd. From the lack of visible presence online, and the fact that, according to its listing on Companies House, it is owned by another company, there is every reason to believe this is little more than a shell. Flicking back to the only other image of McCann I can find, at the party, as if something in his face might give him away, my attention turns to the other man in the photo.

When I copy and paste his name into Google, the information is more forthcoming. Clicking on a newspaper obituary from the previous month, I read:

The late David Witherall, who died this week after being hit by a car in his home city of London, was the heir to the FTSE 100 company TradeSmart, owned by his father, Clive Witherall. He leaves behind a wife and two children.

There is a photo accompanying the article. A young family, on a beach somewhere, their faces turned to the sun. They are crouched down, each of the parents with an arm over one of the girls.

Something about the picture has an almost hypnotic effect, and as I stare at it, my headache eases. After a moment I look away and highlight the second name from the caption: Irena Vasiliev.