‘Yes. Recently the agents you mentioned bought shares in the company, which enabled them to handle their own clients in the agency’s name. So, you have Emma, who has actors and actresses, Laura, who mostly does writers, producers and directors, and Daniel has a lot of theatre stars.’

Jane looked up from her notebook. ‘We just met a Simon Quinn?’

Nathan continued to click his pen and a film of sweat broke out on his thin upper lip. ‘Well, it is quite complicated because Simon has only just joined the agency and he is very much part of . . . ’ He paused. ‘I’m sorry, was part of a new venture Charles had been working on for the past six months. They were setting up a modelingagency called KatWalk and contracting some well-known sports stars, mostly for advertising and promotional work, but it’s all still in its infancy.’

Spencer shifted his weight. The office felt stifling and his back was starting to ache from having to stand.

‘So, Myers is now the majority shareholder?’

Nathan nodded. ‘Yes, but he would not be able to make any changes to the present structure until Mr. Foxley’s estate and beneficiaries are legally sorted.’

Jane closed her notebook. ‘Can you think of anyone with a motive to kill Mr. Foxley?’

She was surprised by his reaction because for the first time there was a glimmer of a smile on Nathan’s face. ‘Well, I would say there are an awful lot of people with grievances, but I doubt any of them would want him dead.’

‘What about his ex-wife?’ Jane asked.

Nathan kept clicking his pen. ‘I know Justine was devastated by the divorce, and perhaps she is the main beneficiary of his will . . . I really don’t know. I hardly ever had anything to do with her.’

He placed his pen down on the cluttered desk and Spencer glanced towards Jane to indicate they should leave. He thanked Nathan for his time and turned towards the door.

‘You’re welcome. She was a very successful actress, you know. When the company first started, I believe Justine financed it. I don’t know if that’s any help.’

Spencer didn’t reply as he opened the door and ushered Jane out. A tearful secretary scurried past them and they headed further down the corridor. Daniel Bergman threw open his office door.

‘Margaret, come back in here this minute!’ he shouted. ‘Oh . . .’ He looked at Jane and Spencer. ‘Secretaries.’ He shrugged. ‘For some reason I seem to go through a large number of them, but Miss Pratt really and truly suited her name. You must be Jane Tennison.’ He reached out to shake her hand. He then turned to Spencer. ‘And you, I believe, are Detective Sergeant Spencer Gibbs? Do come in and sit down. I think you’ve already been offered coffee, but would you like a fresh cup? Or I have a variety of teas. Herbal, mint . . . ’