There it was – the infamous Ava’s. Prickles of alarm were already scratching at my skin. Leaded stained-glass windows adorned either side of black, solid, wooden double doors clearly visible behind the steel security roller shutters. A very clever way to preserve the privacy of those inside while still looking upmarket. The entire facade managed to sing out while standing back. Very clever indeed. Ava’s had been the haunt of on-the-way-up actors and on-the-way-down models a few years ago. A couple of raids too many had put an end to most of its true celebrity clientele. Now it served mid-listers and wannabes. Those who were desperate to be seen by those desperate to report and photograph anyone in the public eye.

Dan Jeavons had been so proud of this place. He’d been wanting to expand, his eyes looking in the direction of Specimens, my restaurant. He wanted to ‘buy’ it from Nathan and me and rename it Ava’s – Part Deux. The two establishments were close enough to each other to be a set, far enough apart so that his proposed new restaurant couldn’t be tainted by his club’s more notorious reputation. Nathan’s one-word answer to Dan’s proposal was swift – and he had spoken for both of us. The only trouble was Dan was allergic to no. Nathan and I had learned that to our cost. That no had started all this.

Only a couple of weeks after we’d unequivocally turned down Dan’s proposal for the umpteenth time, my husband was knocked over and killed by a hit-and-run driver. I didn’t need to be Benjamin Banneker to figure out who was responsible. That’s why I couldn’t understand it when Troy got the ridiculous notion into his head that Sonny was responsible for Nathan’s death. As if. No, I had Dan Jeavons to thank for that. He might not have done the dirty work himself – that was more likely to have been Jarvis or another of his brain-dead minions – but there was no doubt in my mind that Dan had ordered it. And, after Nathan’s death, Dan carried on seeking to blackmail my restaurant out from under me.

Now he was dead.

And I still wasn’t free of him.

‘Sephy, are you OK?’ asked Sonny from beside me.

I gave a fleeting smile in answer to his question. ‘Sonny, could you give me a minute?’ I took out my mobile and hit the icon to phone my daughter. It went straight through to her voicemail inbox. Disconnecting the call, I decided to record a voice memo and send that to Callie instead.

Sonny frowned at me. ‘What’re you doing?’

I raised a hand to stop his questions, concentrating on what I was going to say. ‘I’m leaving Callie a message.’

‘About what?’

‘The truth.’

‘I don’t understand.’