The shower is easing off and I can’t put off phoning Charles. I stand and mouth ‘goodbye’ to the barman. Despite my tearful reconciliation with Charles, I still feel that the Duke of Gloucester, he of the Princes in the Tower infamy, was a model uncle compared with me. Thankfully the wine has taken the edge off my guilt. The sky is a brilliant blue, trees are dripping, the air is reviving. I’m sorry Charles, I’m sorry Charles, I’m sorry Charles. His phone rings and rings as I walk up Whitehall towards Trafalgar Square. I half hope the mechanical clunk of an Ansafone tape will rescue me. But then:

‘Charles.’ His inflexion is flat, tired.

‘Hi, it’s Gil.’

‘Gil.’ Repeated back to me, mechanically.

I launch into the script I’ve prepared.

‘How have you been?’ No answer. ‘Sorry again about everything. How are the boys? How are you? Is there anything you need.’

There’s a sigh. ‘What do you want, Gil?’

The resigned cynicism in his voice is a warning. I wanted to tell him there is something sinister about how Clare died, but not now. Better to obfuscate.

‘Look, this is probably inappropriate. Sorry in advance. But I am doing a story that relates to your employer, so I wanted to pick your brains. Completely off the record.’

‘As you say, it is completely inappropriate.’

But he doesn’t hang up. I chance my arm. ‘Do Schon manage much pension fund money?’

‘That’s a dumb question. Of course we do. A ton of it.’

‘In the UK?’

‘Among other places.’

‘And do you know a partner called Robin Muller?’

A cautious pause. The wait is like opening a door to a house and not knowing if the alarm is switched on. ‘What’s Muller got to do with this?’

‘Nothing. I don’t know. He was someone I knew at Oxford, we lost touch, I heard he’s at your shop.’

‘I know him, a bit.’

‘Does he work in asset management? Looking after pensions’ investments?’

I’m expecting confirmation and am hurrying to my next question, so I almost don’t notice when Charles says, ‘No. Nowhere near. He works in corporate advisory. Mergers and acquisitions.’

Oh. Muller does deals for big companies. Why on earth would he go to a meeting with the Chancellor to lobby against the pensions policy if he had nothing to do with managing the money that goes into pension funds?

I stall to rearrange my thoughts. ‘Is he doing well?’

‘He’s the boy wonder. The British rainmaker. Back at base they worship him.’

‘Gosh,’ I say stupidly, wondering what the Schon partners would think if they knew about his university habits. My creaking brain tries to join the dots: if Robin lobbied Kendall, maybe it was for one of his clients, rather than on behalf of Schon itself. ‘I suppose he advises some pretty big companies?’