The bar is starting to fill up properly now: people coming for a quick drink after finishing at restaurants, friends meeting friends, the barman chatting away happily to a few. A DJ has taken up residence on the far side of the room, playing music that Robin hasn’t heard before: a combination of jazz and something more modern. Robin’s enjoying the ambience, then becomes aware of someone sitting down on the bar stool next to him. He turns.

The woman orders a glass of sparkling mineral water, then looks at him.

‘You want a drink?’ she asks.

He recognises her. Olivia Cross, from Frankie’s house. She’s in the same smart dress, but her hair is tied up high now, a few tendrils loose around her face.

You don’t look like a tom, Robin thinks, then wonders if he’s spoken out loud.

‘No, thank you,’ he says.

He turns back to his pint, but she doesn’t leave. He can feel her looking at him.

‘You were at Frankie’s,’ she says. ‘You’re that cop.’

‘Guilty as charged,’ he replies. Then, despite knowing the answer, he asks, ‘And you are…?’

‘Liv.’ She holds out a slim hand and he shakes it. It’s cold where she’s been holding her glass. ‘I work for Frankie.’

‘Robin Butler,’ he replies. ‘Is this coincidence, or did you follow me?’

She laughs. ‘You’re not stupid, are you? Even after a few pints.’

He doesn’t reply. She’s flirting with him. Officially he’s off duty, but still, this isn’t great.

‘You’re not Frankie’s favourite person, Robin. I’d stay away for a while if I were you. She was about to report you.’

‘Thanks for the tip.’

‘What did you want, anyway?’

‘A man called Jonathan Miller used the escort’s services. We wanted to know why.’

She nods, thinking, taking a sip from her glass, her lipstick leaving a mark on the rim. She rubs at it with her finger.

‘Off the record, right?’ she says quietly.

‘I’m not a journalist.’

‘Well, don’t arrest me if I tell you what you need to know.’

‘Deal.’

‘He was my client. Or rather, his wife was. She paid me. I went out to see them both. At their house.’

‘And this was?’

‘A few months ago. Maybe May?’

‘What service did you provide?’

‘You’re not going to arrest me, right?’

‘I’m off duty.’

‘They wanted a threesome.’

Robin raises his eyebrows. ‘Him and his wife?’

‘Yeah. She said it was his birthday present, except… well. He didn’t seem that keen.’

Robin finishes his pint, then raises his hand to the barman. ‘You want one?’ he asks her and she shakes her head. ‘What do you mean, not keen?’ he asks, once he’s been served.