Newman grinned, shaking his head. ‘Do me a favor, do I look like someone who would be mixing in the same social circles as Charles Foxley? Not that I didn’t get along with him. He was down-to-earth, no airs and graces, you know? He liked a flutter on the gee-gees, as it happens.’

‘Did you put any bets on for him?’

‘Yeah, now and then . . . And the dogs. If he won big, he’d always give me a cut, and when he lost, he didn’t get too cut up about it. He was a good bloke.’

‘So, along with walking his dogs and placing bets for him, was there anything else you did for Mr. Foxley?’

For the first time Newman shifted around in his seat. ‘How’d you mean?’

‘It’s a simple question, Mr. Newman.’

His small eyes glinted as he chewed at the corner of his droopy moustache. ‘I’ve done nothing wrong. I’ve been straight for ten years. All I do is walk dogs for people who can’t walk them themselves and I declare all my earnings, too.’

Tyler slapped the table hard. Jane almost jumped and Newman froze.

‘Just tell us what else you did for Mr. Foxley.’

Newman licked his lips. ‘You mean putting him in touch with Mandy?’

Tyler nodded as if he knew what Newman was talking about. ‘Why would Mr. Foxley want to contact Mandy?’

Newman shrugged his shoulders and looked down at the desk. ‘This is nothing to do with me. I’ve never got into that kinda thing . . . but each to their own. I’d been walking her Doberman because the bloke that did security for her had got sciatica and I knew him from the tracks.’

‘Get to the point,’ Tyler snapped.

‘I’m getting there, I’m getting there. Mr. Foxley was asking about the Doberman because I left a studded collar in the Volvo. I swear to God, that’s how it happened.’

‘What happened?’ Tyler asked, leaning forward.

‘I told him it belonged to Mandy. Mandy Pilkington. I mean, I didn’t really know her, you gotta understand that. Like, I know she’s into S&M. I made a joke that maybe the collar was for one of her clients. Mr. Foxley seemed interested, wanted to know more, so I told him. He asked for her address, so I give it to him. It was just in conversation, really. Then my mate, the one with the sciatica, tells me I’m not needed to walk Bruno again, but Mandy said to give me a tenner because I’d sent her some new business. To be honest, I don’t even know why she needs security ’cause she’s got to be almost three hundred pounds. I swear, that’s all I know.’