Jane nodded sympathetically. ‘Is Mr. Bergman in?’

‘He’s always in,’ Rita replied, picking up the phone. ‘You’ve got the detectives here to see you, Mr. Bergman. Shall I show them through?’

She held the phone away from her ear as Bergman replied, then replaced the receiver.

‘He’s a rude bastard, that one. Just go on through.’

As they crossed the hallway into the other office, Bergman could be heard shouting at his usual volume.

‘I’m just telling you she’s found out the leading actor is getting paid more than she is. No, just fucking listen to me! She’s a much bigger name – you know it, I know it. So you’re telling me you had no option because the previous leading actor got appendicitis and you were over a barrel. Fine, you tell her that. Yes, you. Then call me back!’

Jane knocked lightly on the door and walked in. Bergman waved his hand at them.

‘Rita, hold all my calls – but if Vanessa rings I’m going to have to take it.’ He put the receiver down with a sigh. ‘Sorry about that, but I’ve got this fucking actress throwing a wobbly on the set and refusing to continue shooting. The stupid cow has somehow found out that the actor playing opposite her is being paid more money and she’s throwing a fit. They’ve told her that she can keep two very costly designer outfits as compensation but she’s not buying it.’

Bergman then looked at them inquiringly as they sat down on the sofa.

‘We just need to ask you for some more detail with regard to Sebastian Martinez,’ said Jane. ‘You said there was some sort of “situation” regarding the purchase of Mr. Martinez’s flat?’

Bergman sat back in his chair. ‘Well, it was common knowledge that Charles bought it for half the market value. All I do know, as I have told you, is that there was a very unpleasant situation.’ Bergman shrugged his narrow shoulders. ‘You know how gays can be. He was in here screaming his head off, accusing Charles of destroying his career – but I have no idea what that was all about. You could probably get more information from Emma Ransom. Shortly after Charles did the deed, the poor old queen topped himself.’

The light on Bergman’s desk phone started blinking. There was a knock on the door and the flustered face of his secretary, Margaret, appeared.

‘Mr. Bergman, Vanessa really needs to talk to you urgently.’

‘Shit! Would you excuse me?’ He snatched up the phone.

‘Vanessa, darling. Update?’ He sprang to his feet, gripping the phone, while his face went puce. ‘The stupid cunt did what?! I don’t fucking believe it! Listen, Vanessa, I’ll get into a taxi right now. I promise you I will sort this out.’ He slammed the phone down.