‘Before we get into that,’ said Strike, ‘what exactly is keeping John at the office? If he isn’t going to make it, I’ll arrange an alternative appointment with him; I’ve got other people to see this afternoon. Is he still trying to sort out this Conway Oates business?’

He knew only what Ursula had told him, that Conway Oates had been an American financier, but this mention of the firm’s dead client had the desired effect. Landry’s pomposity, his desire to control the encounter, his comfortable air of superiority, vanished entirely, leaving him clothed in nothing but temper and shock.

‘John hasn’t – can he really have been so…? That is strictly confidential business of the firm!’

‘It wasn’t John,’ said Strike. ‘Mrs Ursula May mentioned that there’s been a bit of trouble around Mr Oates’s estate.’

Clearly thrown, Landry spluttered, ‘I am very surprised – I wouldn’t have expected Ursula – Mrs May…’

‘So will John be along at all? Or have you given him something that will keep him busy all through lunch?’

He enjoyed watching Landry wrestle his own temper, trying to regain control of himself and the encounter.

‘John will be here shortly,’ he said finally. ‘I hoped, as I said, to be able to lay certain facts in front of you, in private.’

‘Right, well, in that case, I’ll need these,’ said Strike, removing a notebook and pen from his pocket.

Landry looked quite as put out by the sight of these objects as Tansy had.

‘There’s no need to take notes,’ he said. ‘What I’m about to say has no bearing – or at least, no direct bearing – on Lula’s death. That is,’ he added pedantically, ‘it will add nothing to any theory other than that of suicide.’

‘All the same,’ said Strike, ‘I like to have my aide-memoire.’

Landry looked as though he would like to protest, but thought better of it.

‘Very well, then. Firstly, you should know that my nephew John was deeply affected by his adopted sister’s death.’

‘Understandable,’ commented Strike, tilting the notebook so that the lawyer could not read it, and writing the words deeply affected, purely to annoy Landry.

‘Yes, naturally. And while I would never go so far as to suggest that a private detective refuse a client on the basis that they are under strain, or depressed – as I said, we all have our livings to make – in this case…’

‘You think it’s all in his head?’

‘That’s not how I’d have phrased it, but bluntly, yes. John has already suffered more sudden bereavements than many people experience in a lifetime. You probably weren’t aware that he’s already lost a brother…’

‘Yeah, I knew. Charlie was an old schoolmate of mine. That’s why John hired me.’

Landry contemplated Strike with what seemed to be surprise and disfavour.

‘You were at Blakeyfield Prep?’