If you had called the United States Embassy as you threatened – or arranged for an Italian lawyer to represent you in your talks with the police – you knew there was a very good chance the media would find out… Not only would our suspicions about your brother be made public, they would learn about you as well. Who you are, and what you do, and who you personally represent. People who would not want to be linked, however distantly or innocently, to the murder of the cardinal vicar of Rome.'

'Who do you think I represent that would-?'

Farel cut him off abruptly, naming half a dozen of his superstar Hollywood clients in rapid succession.

'Should I keep on, Mr Addison?'

'How did you get that information?' Harry was shocked and outraged. The identity of his firm's clients was carefully guarded. It meant Farel had not only been digging into his background but also had connections in Los Angeles capable of getting him whatever he asked for. A reach and power that in themselves were frightening.

'Your brother's guilt or innocence aside, there is a certain practicality to things… That's why you're talking to me, Mr Addison, alone and of your own free will and will continue to do so until I am done with you… You have to protect your own success.' His left hand found its way up to caress his skull just over his left ear. 'It's a nice day. Why don't we go for a walk…?'

The morning sun was beginning to light the top floors of the buildings around them as they came out and Farel turned them left, onto Via Ombrellari – a narrow cobblestone street without sidewalks, the apartment buildings interrupted here and there by a bar or restaurant or pharmacy. A priest walked by across from them. Farther down, two men noisily loaded empty wine and mineral water bottles into a van outside a restaurant.

'It was a Mr Byron Willis, a partner in your law firm, who informed you of your brother's death.'

'Yes…'

So Farel knew that, too.