I nod, say nothing. Since I first made contact on the phone with McFaul, I’ve tried twice more. On the first occasion, he didn’t pick up. Five days ago, we had the beginnings of a conversation. He’s still somewhere hot, and he sounded relaxed. I think I caught the clatter of a tram in the background, but I could have been hearing things. Either way, my guess is that yesterday’s news coverage will catch up with him. A story like that, a bust-open coffin on a beach, will reach every corner of the planet.

Evelyn wants to know about Beth. She hates it when people start falling out. Nathan is all sympathy.

‘She’s a sensitive soul, Beth. Personally speaking, I’ve never had a problem with her. In fact, I think she’s brought a bit of je ne sais quoi to this little town. Most of the stuff in that shop of hers isn’t to my taste, but my wife loved it. Been a long time coming, she used to say. God bless her. Red plastic earrings were never de rigueur chez moi, but I suppose there’s no accounting for taste.’

I know these little crumbs of French are tossed in my direction, but I choose to ignore them. Like most lawyers, I suspect Nathan Kline QC has many faces and I certainly prefer this one to the boorish clown who turned up at my door in Holland Park. At least he’s not trying to drag me out for supper, and whatever else he might have in mind for afterwards. Or so I’m foolish enough to assume.

‘That little Cessna of mine.’ He’s caught my eye. ‘The offer’s still there if you ever fancy it.’

I drop a verbal curtsey, tell him I’m grateful. One day, maybe, but not quite yet. Then I have another thought.

‘How many seats does it have?’

‘Four. Two up front. Gawkers in steerage. You have a pal in mind?’

‘I might. Would that be OK?’

‘Depends whether they’re as lovely as you, my dear …’ He’s trying to mask his disappointment. ‘Though two Enoras might ask too much of me.’

Evelyn mentions our visit from the constabulary last night. Given Nathan’s vast courtroom experience in these matters, what does he think the police might do now?

Nathan gives the question some thought, as if it’s the first time he’s had a chance to ponder it.

‘They’ll obviously want to know what happened,’ he says at last.

‘To Christianne?’

‘Of course. People, thank God, rarely die without due cause. The virgin birth? Wildly improbable. A virgin death? I think not.’