The ladies bathroom had three cubicles, with three wash basins and a roller towel. Jane was washing her hands when the door opened and Emma Ransom walked in.

‘We were just talking to Julia Summers,’ Jane said affably, as she pulled down the roller towel.

‘Yes, I was told she had hurried back from Devon with Charles’s diary. You have no idea how many times I have told her that she should not remove it from the office, but I don’t think the lift stops on all floors with Julia. Trying to organize Charles was quite a complicated exercise and one I constantly had to monitor.’

‘I would’ve thought that as he was such a successful agent, Mr. Foxley would have required an experienced secretary or personal assistant,’ Jane said.

Emma nodded. ‘He most certainly did, which is why I had more work than I should have had. But then there were other reasons for hiring Julia. Her father is what is known as an angel in our business. He’s a phenomenally wealthy man who invests in stage productions and, more recently, British movies. Her mother is also from a very aristocratic family, so Julia is very well-connected. For all her ineptness, she did bring in a lot of her aspiring model friends to Charles’s new venture, KatWalk. But frankly, now that he’s gone, I doubt she will be staying at the company. And Simon Quinn will more than likely be out of a job without Charles as well.’

She pushed open one of the cubicle doors.

‘Can I just ask you something?’ Jane said. ‘I believe you were the agent for Sebastian Martinez?’

‘Yes, I was.’

‘I’ve heard various stories about there being some unpleasant interactions with Charles Foxley in connection with the purchase of Mr. Martinez’s flat in Kensington.’

Emma pursed her lips. ‘I did represent Sebastian. He was an exceedingly talented designer. He had also qualified as an architect and a lot of his sets were extraordinarily complicated structures. He worked not only for major theatres but also opera houses.’

‘Could you tell me about the animosity between those two?’

‘It was a difference of opinions. At the time, Charles also represented him as a client, and I didn’t really know the details.’ She turned as if to go into the cubicle.

‘But he committed suicide, didn’t he?’

Emma turned back, frowning angrily. ‘I really don’t see what that’s got to do with anything.’

‘I just want to know if his suicide was connected to the sale of the flat.’

This time Emma snapped. ‘If you want further details, I suggest you ask Charles’s ex-wife. Right now, I really need to take a piss.’ She slammed the cubicle door shut.