Myers didn’t speak during the journey to the mortuary at Lambeth, and as soon as they arrived, asked if he could check whether his dogs had been taken to his office.

Spencer raised his eyebrows. ‘I’m sure there’s a phone that you can use, sir.’

Jane and Spencer watched Myers make the call from a payphone in the reception area.

‘Can you believe this guy?’ Spencer said.

‘No, I can’t,’ Jane said, shaking her head. ‘He seems more worried about his dogs than his dead business partner.’

They were given permission to go into the mortuary area, where the body would usually have been laid out in the small chapel of rest for identification purposes. But their victim was still waiting for an autopsy, so his body was on the slab covered by a green sheet, with only his head visible. They had cleaned his face up as best as they could, but a number of teeth had been smashed, his nose broken, and one eye had been driven into his skull. They had managed to wash most of the blood from his hair, which was now its original strawberry blond color.

‘Are you ready, Mr. Myers?’ Jane asked quietly.

He nodded, and a mortician led them to the table.

Spencer looked directly ahead with Myers standing to his right and Jane just a little behind, in case Myers felt faint and keeled over backwards.

‘Could you please look at the man on the table and tell me if you recognize him?’

Myers remained completely still, slowly lowering his head to look closer. He frowned, took a deep breath and sighed.

‘Yes, this is him. This is Charles Foxley.’ He turned towards Jane. ‘Can you get me out of here, please?’

*

‘Maybe this is not the time, sir, but I will need to talk to you, and we will obviously have numerous questions to ask,’ Spencer told him on their way out of the mortuary. ‘Can I request that you do not make any contact with the press regarding Mr. Foxley’s death? It is imperative we are able to investigate the crime without being hampered by overzealous reporters and journalists. I would also be grateful if you would accompany us to the station where we could take a formal statement from you.’

‘What? Do you mean right now? No, no, it’s impossible. I have an incredibly important meeting with a client; in fact, I have back-to-back meetings all day – and, of course, I need time to recover from this appalling news.’

‘Would it be convenient to speak to you at nine tomorrow morning?’ Spencer asked.

Myers pursed his lips. ‘I’ll have to move a couple of appointments, but yes, I suppose I could be available.’ He paused. ‘Charles did have an awful lot of enemies.’

Jane glanced at Spencer as they walked behind Myers, who was now intent on hailing a taxi.