“We became friends and later business partners. Nothing formal, but we worked together. He had the ideas and I had the practical experience and at least the hope of raising money. I’ll answer the question you’re thinking of a tactful way to ask. We were friends. Not lovers, not fellow conspirators, not buddies, not drinking companions—friends. I liked him and I suppose we were useful to each other. I told him I’d inherited just over a million from a maiden aunt who’d recently died. The aunt was genuine enough, but the old dear hadn’t a penny to leave. Actually I was lucky in the Lottery. I don’t quite know why I’m bothering to tell you this except you’ll no doubt find out sooner or later, when you start wondering whether I have any financial interest in Robin’s death. I haven’t. I doubt whether he’s left anything but debts and the jumble of things—mostly clothes—that he’s dumped here.”

“Did you ever tell him about the Lottery win?”

“No, I didn’t. I never think it’s wise to tell people if you have a big win. They simply take the view that, since you’ve done nothing to deserve your luck, you have an obligation to share it with the equally undeserving. Robin fell for the rich-auntie story. I invested over a million on this house, and it was his idea that we started etiquette courses for the newly rich or social aspirants who don’t want to be embarrassed every time they entertain the boss or take a girl out to dinner at a decent restaurant.”

Benton said, “I thought the very rich didn’t care one way or another. Don’t they make their own rules?”