‘I would have liked Mr Ross to work for me,’ said Shah. ‘He is a good man and in my business they can be hard to find. But the Rhino, he is very much an individual. An old-fashioned American. He prefers to set his own course. There is no telling this kind of man.’

It was obvious that Palmer was dissatisfied with the answer. He regarded his interviewee with a stony face for at least two seconds.

‘You must surely have some idea of why somebody wants you dead,’ he said eventually. ‘Both of you dead.’ His voice took on a harder, embittered edge with every word. ‘Because that’s what we’re talking about here, mate. Somebody has your number. Both you and Mr Ross. And it defies belief that you don’t have any idea who that might be. Come on, give it up. We’re not in court. There’s no fucking rules of evidence to worry about today.’ The detective threw a hostile glare at Downing before continuing. ‘What I do have to worry about is some dickhead running around town blowing up fucking reffos. I’m not having it, Shah. Not on my fucking manor. I don’t know who or what you think you’re protecting, but it’s certainly not your family. If that bomb had gone off at your place the way it was supposed to, your wife and your two daughters would be dead now.’

Jules expected Shah to stiffen at the taunt, and she did see Downing move as if to placate his client. But the old warrior didn’t react at all. Rather than having to calm him down or restrain him, Downing instead picked up a pen and scratched a meaningless doodle onto the yellow legal pad in front of him. Covering his own precipitate reaction.

‘Can we safely assume then, Detective Palmer,’ he said without looking up from the pad, ‘that you haven’t the foggiest idea of why somebody attacked my client? At his home. Would it be the case, Detective, that you don’t even have a lead to be getting on with, since the surviving bomber died without talking? So, is it the case you thought you might have Mr Shah in here this afternoon to see if he could do your job for you?’

Unlike Shah, Palmer did not hide his irritation. Two distinct spots of colour rose to his cheeks, fairly burning with resentment, as he glared at the lawyer.