She laughed. ‘I had to have some fun with him. I was furious.’

‘Why?’

‘How dare he come to my house, grubby little man.’ She patted her hair. ‘It’s all so sordid, the whole thing, and I don’t want it to … get in to everything.’

‘He’s only doing his job.’

‘Oh, you’re so composed all the time.’ A grille opened up and she squeezed my arm and sashayed forwards.

Despite what Edie thought, I was far from composed. I was already seeing policemen in every shadow, and jumping every time the telephone rang. The inquest was set for seven days after the fire, and time seemed to split the closer it got. Each minute seemed to drag, while each day sped past, carrying me onward to the verdict.

On the morning of the inquest I woke after a long, disturbed night. My hair was plastered to my skull, and my eyeballs felt sunken in their sockets. My suit was hanging up in the corner of the room. I looked over at it, remembering the time I’d gone through Freddie’s clothes in his bungalow. I could have laughed at how hopeful I’d been back then, how naïve.

I thought about staying in bed all day, but it was better to get it over and done with, to know rather than remain in the dark. I called down for coffee and rolls, then got up and washed and headed to the Muthaiga.

June Carberry was at the bar, looking hot and annoyed. My skin turned cold when I remembered she’d had supper with Freddie at the Muthaiga that night, and I wondered whether he’d seen me, if he’d mentioned our falling out. Maybe I hadn’t managed to hide my anger when they’d walked past, maybe June knew I had a motive. I wouldn’t have put it past Freddie to have laughed about me to the others, how personally I’d taken it when he used me in front of Legco.

I cocked my head at her and she nodded and came to join me at my table. ‘Exciting, isn’t it?’ she said.

‘If you say so. Drink?’

She nodded.

I signalled a waiter and ordered two brandies with soda, then signed the chit. She lit a cigarette.

‘How come we haven’t done this before?’ she asked, as if there was more to our meeting than chance. Her voice was husky from the smoke.

‘I try to avoid your husband.’

‘Why?’

‘He tried to kill my dog.’

‘He did?’ She laughed. ‘Well, bastards will be bastards.’

‘So you know what he is.’

She nodded. She was still smiling.

‘It doesn’t bother you?’

‘Nothing bothers me, honey,’ she said.

I believed her.

‘How did you meet?’