He took the chair indicated, and the older man sat in the other, a clean metre or so between them. The younger man took station by the door. There could be no mistaking this for anything but what it was: the interrogation of a wrongdoer. It would be sweeter, quicker, if he simply confessed and saved everyone time. Whatever it is you think I’ve done, I’ve done it. Can we go home now? Though he had, of course, no home to go to. A fact which lay at the heart of what it was he’d done.

“So, John. John Bachelor.”

“That’s me.”

“Yes, John. We know it’s you, John. Otherwise we’d look a right pair of nanas, wouldn’t we, collecting someone who isn’t John Bachelor this bright summer morning. So you’re who you are, and we’re us. Richard there, you already know his name. And I’m Edward. Eddie to my friends. Very much Edward to you.”

“Edward it is.”

Edward sighed. “I recognise that you’re eager to cooperate, John, and that’s going to save a lot of inconvenience. But don’t waste breath on things that don’t need saying. Which is a polite way, John, of telling you not to speak except to answer questions.” He clasped his hands. “If you want to hear a less polite way of being told that, go ahead with the irrelevant interruptions. Clear enough?”

John nodded.

“Nods aren’t going to cut it, John. When I ask a direct question, I’m going to need to hear words coming out of your mouth. So once again, was that clear enough?”

“It was.”

“That’s better.” Edward smiled, though not in a realistic way. Edward, thought John, was less of a suit than he appeared. Edward might have put on jacket and tie at some ungodly hour this morning, but that was as far as it went.

Edward unclasped his hands. Even at this distance, John was getting a hint of a fragrance he’d first detected in the car; a robust, peppery smell, from a soap that doubtless came in masculine packaging. He imagined waxed paper wrapping a weighty disc, its surface embossed with an heraldic design. All of this was offset by his awareness of his own body odour, never alluring first thing in the morning, and worsened by fear and interrupted sleep. His stomach churned repeatedly. His chin felt rubbery. His whole body, when you got down to it, was a sad disappointment. But Edward was speaking again: