‘Well,’ Willox thumbed through a big desk diary, ‘he’s down to show a couple round a detached cottage with two bedrooms, sun porch, and excellent potential as an equestrian property, in twenty minutes, but you can—’

‘I don’t think you’re really getting the seriousness of this.’

‘We do have a business to run, and—’

‘Get him in here now.’

Willox puffed out his cheeks, ran a hand across his comb-over quiff. ‘I. . .’ Then he leaned forward and pressed one of the shoogled buttons on his desk phone. ‘Jennifer, can you ask Mr Cocker to step into my office please? ’

Duncan Cocker shifted in his seat, licked his lips. Pulled on a twitchy smile. ‘Nah: honest, I got no idea, you know? ’

Logan sat back in Mr Willox’s executive office chair and steepled his fingertips, the top two just under the tip of his nose. Doing his best Superintendent Napier impression. Staring at Duncan Cocker in silence.

‘So, you. . .’ A shrug. ‘It’s all OK, right? ’

More silence.

He started to rise out of his seat, so Logan gave PC Sim the nod and she loomed over him, both hands on his shoulders, pushing him back down. ‘Don’t think so.’

‘But I told you, I don’t know, it’s just, like, one of them coincidences? ’

Sim patted him on the cheek. ‘Tell me, Mr Cocker, do we look thick? ’

Pause. ‘No? ’

‘So why do you think it’s OK to lie to us? ’

‘But I’m totally not lying, and—’

‘Mr Cocker, it’s not polite to call someone thick, is it? ’

‘I didn’t say anyone was thick, it’s like a—’

‘Some people might take a lot of offence at that.’

He stared at Logan, hands up at chest height, as if miming the ‘Please, sir, can I have some more? ’ bit from Oliver Twist. ‘I didn’t tell anyone about me knowing Ton, ’cos I didn’t want to lose my job, and it wasn’t like I had anything to do with it, yeah? ’

Logan smiled at him. ‘You have no idea how much trouble you’re in, do you? ’

‘But. . .’ A breath. Then he looked at the floor. ‘Ton would kill me.’

‘He’d have to join the queue. You see, the people he’s been stealing from aren’t the let-bygones-be-bygones type. They’re more claw-hammer-to-the-knees kind of guys. And as soon as they know you helped Anthony Chung rip them off. . .’ Logan sooked a breath in through his bared teeth. ‘Well, they’re going to be very interested in paying you a visit.’

‘But I never—’

‘Do you like your kneecaps, Duncan? ’

Silence.

He wriggled in his seat, until Sim pinned him down again.

‘The Inspector asked you a question, Mr Cocker.’