Bannerman kept his sigh to himself and softened his tone. ‘Look, I’m sorry if I seem a bit abrupt. I’m just as shocked as you by what happened to Tim. I don’t know why anyone would have wanted to kill him, but I’m going to find out. Someone cracked me on the head yesterday and played footsie with my ribs while I couldn’t do anything about it. And I want to find out who did that, too.’ He stopped to draw breath. ‘A wee lassie who saw her father murdered has been shut away in some institution somewhere and no one seems to care. And if I don’t do something about it I don’t know who else will. And here’s the thing, Mademoiselle, I don’t have much time. They’re going to bury Tim tomorrow, and paint whitewash all over this whole fucking mess. So I need you on side. Because, God knows, I’ve got no other friends in this city.’

Bannerman stopped to take stock. He had not meant to say any of this, perhaps unaware that it was even how he felt. But the words had tumbled out before he could stop them.

Mademoiselle Ricain managed a wan smile and took a further two keys on a ring from her desk drawer and held them out. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I’ll do anything I can to help. Tim was a lovely man.’ She fought back the tears that had stained her face earlier. Bannerman looked at her curiously. Lovely was not a word he would have used to describe Slater. But Mademoiselle Ricain had seen something more in him.

‘You and Tim got on well, then?’

‘Oh.’ She got up and turned towards the window. ‘He was just a nice man, Monsieur Bannerman. Considerate. About a lot of the little things that men don’t usually think of. It’s difficult to say what exactly. It’s just the way a man behaves with you. I liked him. I knew him, I think, better than most others here did. People aren’t always what they seem.’ She glanced at Bannerman, suddenly self-conscious. Colour rose high on her cheeks, and Bannerman realized that she had been in love with him.

‘Yes,’ he said lamely, and found himself unexpectedly touched by sadness. Whatever Mademoiselle Ricain had felt for Slater had not, he was sure, been reciprocated. She moved away from the window and lifted her bag from the desk.

‘Excuse me,’ she said, ‘I’ll be back in a few minutes.’ And she hurried from the office.