Spencer directed him across the landing to the cloakrooms and was about to go down to the car to wait for him when he bumped into Julia Summers hurrying out from the annex, carrying a large portfolio. She was wearing a very short mini skirt and a pink V-neck Ralph Lauren sweater. Her blonde hair hung loose without her Alice band and she had heavy eye make-up.

Spencer nodded and smiled.

‘Oh, hello,’ she said.

‘Are you still working here?’

She gave a small frown. ‘Yes, I am, but mostly with Simon. I’m just taking these photographs through to reception. Do you think you could take the chairs back from Mr. Nathan’s office because we’re interviewing some models this morning?’

She scurried away as Nathan came out of his office, carrying the two chairs.

‘I think those chairs are wanted by Mr. Quinn,’ Spencer said.

Nathan placed them down against a wall and said, ‘Well, he can come and get them.’ He returned to his office and shut the door.

Spencer heard a shriek coming from Daniel Bergman’s office. The next moment Bergman shot out.

‘Do you want to see me?’ he snapped.

‘No, I don’t. I’ve been in with Mr. Nathan.’

‘I have had a fucking awful morning,’ Bergman went on, as if he hadn’t heard. ‘You cannot believe what I have had to deal with. I fought tooth and nail to get this piece of shit the part, and now he’s on the set complaining about unrealistic dialogue. I tell you, the only unrealistic thing about it is that he got the fucking part in the first place. He’s been shoveling so much coke up his nose that his septum ruptured and now he sounds like he’s talking underwater. I now have to go all the way to Elstree—’ He stopped and gestured at the two chairs that had been placed against the wall. ‘Who put these chairs here? This is supposed to be an empty corridor.’

Spencer pointed towards Simon Quinn’s office. ‘I think they were meant for the models.’

Bergman, his hands on his hips, started bellowing, ‘Simon! Simon!’

The young man instantly appeared from his annex.

‘You know we do not have chairs left in the corridor. If anyone is early for a fucking meeting they are going to be sitting out here eavesdropping. Just get them out!’

Bergman was about to go back to his office when Spencer tapped his arm. ‘I’d like to ask you a personal question. We know that Charles Foxley used cocaine. Is there anyone else in this agency that you are aware of who uses it?’

‘Are you accusing me of using cocaine?’

Spencer put both hands in the air as if to apologize.

Then Bergman moved closer. ‘I think perhaps you should talk to Emma Ransom.’