‘You said it yourself. There was someone else there. You saw him do it. You just have to convince the police of it. I’ll speak to them. I can tell them how much she meant to you, Xander.’

‘Thanks, Seb,’ I say. ‘But I think we’re way past that now.’

We spend the rest of the day in quiet distraction. Seb makes some calls and cancels appointments he had lined up for the day. He changes out of his suit and into jeans and a bottle-green cashmere sweater. Then, as the day begins to darken, Seb finally says what I know he’s been holding back.

‘Can I ask you a question?’

‘Of course.’

‘What do the police have on you? I mean they had it down as accidental death. What’s changed?’

Even though I know it’s been coming, I don’t know what the answer is. ‘I was there. I told them that I had witnessed a murder. Her murder.’

He thinks about this. ‘But I’m sure people admit murders all the time that they haven’t done. I’ve seen those crazy people on TV who—’ He stops. ‘There must be something more?’

‘My solicitor thought the same thing. Until—’

‘Until?’

‘The dollars. They found the dollar account. They know I emptied it, not long before Grace—’ I say. I can’t bear to finish the sentence.

‘What?’ he says, stopping to push the sleeves of his sweater back. His face is locked in consternation.

‘I remembered, Seb. I remembered I brought them here.’

‘Oh.’ He frowns. ‘The Bens.’

I look at him, confused by that word again.

‘Bens. We called them the Bens. Benjamin Franklin. It’s his face on the hundred-dollar bills.’

Now it comes back to me and how whenever we made reference to it, we did it as if we were 1930s mobsters. I reach out with my eyes to join Seb in a shared look but he turns away. For a second or two, I hold on to the look I’m giving him until the moment putters out. A thought rolls in my head before I dismiss it. It’s uncharitable that I’m wondering if he is deliberately avoiding my eye.

‘Seb, I need the money,’ I say finally.

He nods. ‘Of course. But, why does it matter so much? It’s not evidence of murder, surely?’ he says, shifting in his seat.

‘They think I killed her for the money. That’s why I need it,’ I say.

‘Your money, Xand. You can’t have killed her for your own money.’

‘Half was mine Seb. Half.’ I look around the room so that I don’t have to look him in the eye. I am embarrassed to have to ask. ‘What happened to the money, Seb?’

He moves in his seat, blinking rapidly. ‘Nothing. It’s all upstairs in the loft still.’

A rush runs through me. ‘The dollars are still here?’

‘Yes.’