‘One moment please, sir,’ Jane said sharply. ‘You just said Mr. Foxley had a lot of enemies. Is there anyone in particular you were referring to?’

‘Dear God! I was being flippant. It’s the shock. I’m in a state of shock.’

A taxi pulled up, and before they could stop him, Myers had hurriedly climbed in, slamming the door shut behind him.

Jane and Spencer watched the taxi drive off.

‘Incredible. He didn’t appear to give a shit that his partner had been murdered,’ Jane muttered.

Spencer shrugged. ‘Yeah, well, we’ll see him again tomorrow. Come on, we should go and catch up with the boss at the crime scene.’

*

At Paramount House Myers ran up the stairs two at a time, bursting into the reception area. ‘How are my babies?’ he demanded.

‘Oh, they’re back and all lovely – nails cut and coats shampooed. They smell divine,’ said the blonde girl.

Myers hurried down the corridor and opened his office door. Two Pekingese dogs raised their heads in unison from their hand-woven Harrods dog basket. He closed the door quietly behind him, took off his coat and sat behind his desk. Plucking a handful of tissues from the box, he twisted them in his hands, then burst into tears.

‘You stupid bastard, you stupid bastard . . . ’ he repeated over and over again as he tried to stifle his sobs.

Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR

Two uniformed officers remained at the entrance to Foxley’s flat, which had been cordoned off with yellow tape. Spencer showed his ID and Jane followed him down the steps to the open front door. There was cardboard across the entrance and placed like stepping stones along the hallway. DS Lawrence was at the end of the corridor and turned towards them, removing his latex gloves. He gave a small nod of recognition to Jane.

‘It’s been a very long day. I’ll come back first thing in the morning, but I need to get to the lab to work on all the evidence we have removed so far. I’m asking everyone to keep to the cardboard to avoid contamination. By morning I should be able to give a clear account of what I believe happened.’

Spencer looked at him quizzically. ‘It’s pretty obvious, isn’t it, Paul? Killer used the cricket bat, hammered him at the front door.’

Lawrence put up his hand. ‘Don’t make assumptions, Spence. So far we don’t know which blunt-force trauma occurred first. By that I mean whether he was hit first from behind, suggesting that his assailant was already inside the flat. As yet we have had no indication of forced entry.’

Duly chastised, Spencer muttered his apologies. Jane smiled at Lawrence.

‘Is DCI Tyler here?’ she asked.

Lawrence nodded and gestured towards the kitchen. ‘In there.’