‘Of course I told them,’ said Griff. ‘What do you think I am? Obviously I told them. I said he’d gone to Switzerland, for a meeting.’

‘Not Mâcon? You told us Mâcon before.’

‘No, I straightened that out.’

Slowly, Bea turned back towards the room.

‘So,’ said Dan, ‘Alex had an envelope – or what – a briefcase? Full of money, in the car?’

Dan was aware of Bea’s anger.

‘And you didn’t tell the police,’ he said, ‘when they interviewed you? You just said he was in Switzerland? If he had it with him, whoever attacked him took it.’

Bea’s hand was over her mouth.

‘Some French copper could’ve pinched it,’ said Griff quickly. ‘Or the ambulance crew. Or he may not even have collected it. Whatever.’

‘Whatever?’ said Bea, finding her voice at last.

‘What’s the difference?’

‘You were looking for it, in the car,’ said Bea. ‘That’s what you were doing.’

He shrugged but he could not meet her eye.

‘You let us stay there,’ she said. ‘At Paligny.’

‘I tried to make you leave,’ said Griff.

‘Anything could have happened.’

‘But nothing did,’ he said.

‘It could’ve done!’ said Dan.

‘I asked you to get out of there.’ Griff was stony-faced, unrepentant. ‘I repeatedly invited you, didn’t I? To come and stay with us. I practically begged her.’ He gestured Bea furiously. ‘She refused me.’

‘We didn’t know we were in danger,’ said Bea.

‘Oh, grow up, you weren’t in danger. This is unbelievable. What’s wrong with you both?’ said Griff. ‘I’m doing you a huge favour. There is money at Paligny. I am asking you, as a courtesy to me –’

‘Where is it?’ said Bea. ‘Where in the hotel is it?’

‘If I knew, I would have got it myself.’

‘You don’t know?’

‘No.’

‘You have no idea?’ said Dan.

‘You know what Alex was like,’ said Griff. ‘He’d hide it around the place, and make a game of it. He put it under the floorboards once.’

‘Maybe he was scared,’ said Bea. ‘To be alone with it.’

‘He wasn’t scared. It was a game, that’s all.’

‘He was just trying to please you,’ said Bea. ‘All he ever did –’

‘All right! It was stupid.’

‘It was wrong.’

‘It was stupid of us. I grant you. I see that now, but it’s done. If I could undo it, I would. I would never have sent him off that night – is that what you want me to say? I’ve said it before. Obviously I regret it. Maybe he got drunk and blabbed about it, he was completely out of control. It was a mistake, all right? But if he’d told anyone there was more at the hotel, then someone would have robbed the place, and they didn’t. They haven’t, have they?’