Flicking on the kettle he checked his wristwatch. He had time to eat his usual breakfast, which consisted of half a grapefruit and a cup of black coffee. But on that morning, he didn’t have much of an appetite, and even more unusual, he realised he wasn’t looking forward to getting into his car. Marcus loved his MG but, on this occasion, he found himself wishing he could go back to bed. It was, after all, one of his days off. Or at least is should have been.

Discarding the grapefruit skin in the food bin, Marcus returned to his bedroom to check his appearance in the mirror one last time before leaving his apartment. It hadn’t yet properly sunk in that his friend of fifteen years had died.

As he got into the driver’s seat of his convertible, he checked his silver gelled hair in the mirror and made sure it was neat and smooth before he started the engine.

He drove through St John’s College Playing Fields, past Magdalene College and across the river, making his way towards Jesus Lane, where his accounting firm was situated. Marcus had decided the detour was worth it. He wanted to gather the paperwork he had on Dennis Wade’s business ready for his meeting with the police. Marcus was nothing if not organised.

As he removed the files from his cabinet and slipped them into his briefcase, a twinge of sadness hit him. Dennis may not have been the most exciting of characters, but he had been a good man – of whom Marcus was very fond of.

Frustrated by the one-way system, Marcus took eight minutes to get from his office to the police station. He arrived at three minutes past nine, much to his irritation.

When Palmer appeared to show Marcus to the interview room he was stuck by the man’s smart attire. Apart from the solicitors who came and went from the station, Palmer was used to dealing with much scruffier people.

Barrett, who was holding a polystyrene cup of steaming hot coffee, joined them in the corridor.

Nerves getting the better of him, Marcus spoke before either of the detectives.

‘Shocking news about Dennis. He was a fine man.’ The accountant sat down and gripped his leather briefcase.

‘Yes,’ Barrett remarked coldly.

‘What happened?’

‘His body was discovered yesterday morning by a colleague in the bookshop. We are treating the death as suspicious.’ Barrett slurped his drink.

‘On my way here, I was listening to the radio. They said it was murder.’ Marcus swallowed hard while Palmer and Barrett shared a glance.

‘Yes. That’s right,’ Palmer admitted.

‘Shocking,’ Marcus repeated.

‘How long have you known the deceased?’ Barrett inquired.