While they waited for the food to be served, Gillard eyed the other diners. Middle-class white well-to-do, for the most part, as befitted the prices. No one there seemed to be overly familiar with the staff. The detective had familiarised himself with the appearance of Anton St Jeanne. It wasn’t until after ten o’clock, when the Gillards had finished their delicious main courses, that he emerged briefly from the kitchen, to talk to the small Asian woman at the front of house. He was dressed as if he was doing the cooking, and the beads of sweat on his forehead seemed to prove it.

A few minutes later, a large black guy in a tightly fitting suit and wearing braids rolled in from the street. Gillard watched carefully as the front-of-house woman greeted him deferentially and picked up a phone. The man oozed physical capability, shoulders never quite still, jaw high and to the front. Two minutes later Anton emerged from the kitchen. The body language between the two was fascinating. The big guy was largely impassive, while Anton was expressive. His face animated in a rapid succession of smiles, and he gripped the large man’s hand between the two of his. It was easy to see who was in charge. A glass of wine was produced by a waitress, while the visitor carefully ran his cold dark eyes over the diners.

His gaze stopped on Gillard’s table. The two made brief eye contact, which the detective broke. ‘I’ve been recognised,’ he told Sam.

‘Is it okay?’ she asked. ‘Do we have to go?’

‘It’s fine. I think the guy who saw me is Leroy Ceejay, the guy I told you about.’

She started to look over her shoulder, but Gillard held her hand and said: ‘Not now, wait till you go to the ladies’.’

‘Have you ever crossed swords with him?’

He chuckled. ‘I was once in an unsuccessful drugs raid targeting him and his then boss. Neither were there when we kicked the door down. But that was quite a few years ago, and Ceejay has struck out on his own. Still, I’m a little surprised he knows me.’

Leroy Ceejay’s approach to their table was slow, deliberate and a little intimidating. His huge shadow fell across the dessert menus that they were studying. Gillard looked up, to see a slow but restrained smile. ‘Detective Inspector Gillard, what an honour.’ He extended a meaty paw that swallowed the detective’s own up to the wrist. ‘I hope you’re enjoying your meal.’

‘I am,’ Gillard said.

‘It’s delicious,’ Sam said hurriedly.

‘How was your oxtail?’ Ceejay asked. ‘Don’t you think it’s amazing that poor man’s food has got so damn trendy?’

‘It was always neglected. Unjustly – unlike lungs or tongue,’ Gillard said.