‘I didn’t have to kill him for it, if that’s what you’re implying. I’ve never told Helena because … well, because she and Nick never got on, not even when she was a child. She hated him. If I’d told her I’d been seeing the old man on and off over the years, she’d have felt I’d betrayed her and Mum. I could do without her reproaches, and I could certainly do without Harry’s.’

‘I’m surprised that Nick should be so … amenable.’

‘I am his son. And he always thought the way to gain affection was to buy it, so why not let him carry on?’

I found his cold-bloodedness chilling; he really was a heartless bastard. ‘So, that’s why you accepted the will so calmly?’

‘Certainly, I’d already received most of my share.’ He flicked open the dessert menu that the waiter had just brought. ‘Now what do you fancy? Dark chocolate fondant with salted caramel and orange compote?’

I said words I never thought I would hear coming out of my mouth. ‘I really don’t feel like dessert.’

‘Oh, come on, Juno, don’t let me down! Let’s try and work out who really killed him. You can tell me all about these Russians, over the piña colada and coconut mousse.’

I told him all I could about Vlad and Igor, and the murder of Bert Evans, but I could see that none of them meant anything to him. He told me about the rings.

There were three of them, apparently: a small diamond cluster, a square cut emerald and a heavy gold ring set with three rubies. None of them were spectacularly valuable but they had belonged to Helena’s grandmother and had sentimental value. Richard’s mother had inadvertently left them behind when she had fled the family home, and when he was released from prison, Nick had told her the only way she was going to get them back was if she came to fetch them herself. She never had the courage, and so it was assumed Nick had kept them all this time. Helena had searched for them when she and Richard had visited the flat, but had been unable to find them.

Could they not be in a safety deposit box somewhere, I’d asked. Richard shrugged. There was no record of one. He thought it was more likely that, at some time in the past, Nick had sold them.

It was very late by the time we’d finished our coffee. Richard had insisted on liqueurs but I’d been feeling fretful about going home. It was all right for him, but I had to get up early the next morning and walk the dogs. Eventually I spoke up, and despite his protests that the night was young, he agreed to take me home.

‘My carriage is at your service, fair damsel.’