Robin pauses at the door. ‘It’ll take as long as we need,’ he replies sharply.

Khalid Riaz is exactly as he expected. He smiles a broad grin at them both, white teeth against dark skin, neat black hair and a perfect suit. His silver tiepin is probably worth more than everything Robin is wearing. He holds out his hand and Robin shakes it: firm, but not the bone-cracking style that Robin’s experienced in the past from men like the one in front of him.

‘Call me Kal,’ he says, flashing a charming smile at Freya. Robin notices she simpers slightly, head tilted flirtatiously to the side, before catching his look and stopping herself. Kal gestures to the two seats in front and they sit down, Kal going back to his own chair behind the desk.

‘Incredible view,’ Freya remarks.

London is particularly beautiful that day. The sun casts a glow on the buildings around them, making the glass dazzle like diamonds, the sky a perfect blue.

‘Good, huh?’ Kal says, and even Robin has to admit it’s stunning. ‘The people I had to fuck to get this office,’ he laughs. Robin stares at him, and he looks slightly chagrined. ‘Sorry,’ he mumbles. ‘Anyway, how can I help you? You said on the phone it was about Jonathan’s death. I thought that was sorted?’

‘Sorted, how?’ Robin asks.

‘Well, you know.’ Kal’s caught off guard. ‘You know what happened.’

‘We’re exploring all possibilities.’ Robin pauses. He likes the silence and he can tell it unnerves Kal. ‘When was the last time you saw Mr Miller?’

‘At my party, Friday night. It was my fortieth.’

‘And this was the party at King’s Wine Bar in Winchester?’

‘Yes. I rented out the whole place.’

‘What time did Jonathan arrive?’

Kal frowns, looks skyward. ‘Not sure. Late. It was in full swing by the time they got there – Jonny and Amy.’

‘So…?’

‘About nine-ish?’

‘And what did you talk about?’

‘Talk about?’

Robin knows what he’s doing, repeating the questions, deliberately stalling for time to think. ‘Yes, at the party,’ he repeats slowly, as if talking to an annoying child. ‘What did you and Jonathan and Amy talk about that night? Anything? Just general topics will be fine.’

‘Oh, you know, the usual.’ Robin allows another silence. ‘Look, I can’t remember, okay? I was out of it.’ Kal leans back in his expensive office chair with a creak of leather. ‘It was my birthday. I’d been partying since lunchtime. By nine I couldn’t remember my own name, let alone what conversations I had with people.’

‘You were drunk.’

‘And the rest.’

Robin knows what he doesn’t want to say. A party boy like Kal, he would have had more than alcohol flowing in his veins. Coke, most likely, probably a few other illicit substances. Nothing he’d be in any hurry to discuss with a police officer.