Ceejay laughed. ‘I’m not a fan of those either. I hope you will accept a complimentary dessert with me, and perhaps a brandy on the house too?’

Gillard knew that taking freebies from anyone, let alone suspects, was bureaucratically a tricky area. Even trivial and genuine acts of generosity could be misinterpreted in the black-and-white of an expenses claim or, worse, a courtroom. But now was not the time to demur. They plumped for brown-sugar cookies and crêpes à l’orange. Sam accepted a double brandy, while the detective ordered a coffee.

‘So is this your restaurant?’ Gillard asked.

‘No, no. It was set up by my good friend Anton.’ He turned and called loudly for Anton across the dining room, a faux pas which had other diners looking up.

Anton emerged from the kitchen, wiping his hands, and approached the table. ‘I’d like to introduce you to Detective Chief Inspector Craig Gillard,’ Ceejay proclaimed loudly, before turning to the detective and asking: ‘Are you here on business?’

‘No,’ lied Gillard. ‘This is my wife Sam. I just heard great things about this place.’

‘I’m sure you did,’ Ceejay boomed. ‘Delighted to meet you, Mrs Gillard.’ He rested his hand briefly on her shoulder.

Anton St Jeanne looked embarrassed, as did Sam. Gillard could see other diners staring at them, no doubt discussing the fact that a senior policeman was among them. The desserts arrived, and Ceejay and Anton left them to it. Sam’s fork was shaking in her hand over her crêpes, and Gillard now regretted having brought her here so soon after her trauma. Even this mild piece of intimidation was too much for her at this stage.

Gillard called for the bill but when the waitress approached she was empty-handed. ‘I’m afraid your bill has already been settled, sir.’

Gillard shook his head. ‘I don’t want to be given a free meal because of who I am.’

‘I completely understand, sir. But your bill was settled by another guest, not by the restaurant, so I’m afraid there’s nothing that we can do.’

‘Which other guest?’

‘I apologise but I’m not at liberty to say.’

Gillard looked up and could no longer see Leroy Ceejay. ‘Was it Mr Ceejay?’ he asked.

The waitress shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, that’s all I was told.’

‘Okay, thank you.’

The waitress walked away to another table.

‘You can always leave a big tip,’ Sam whispered.

‘I will,’ he replied. ‘But they know full well that I can’t show an audit trail. And they only have to say I was given a free meal, and I’ll have questions to answer.’

‘It seems that Leroy Ceejay is a pretty clever guy,’ Sam said.