‘This was when?’ Wilson said.

‘Perhaps two years back.’

‘He’s made what amounts to a dying declaration that you hired someone to kill him. His wife has made out an affidavit that he said the same to her several times before the shooting.’

Viv and I exchanged glances. Viv shrugged.

I said, ‘They’re both lying. No, hold on, she might not be lying that he said so. I don’t know the woman. I’m surprised that he had a wife or that he kept one. He was a complete…’

‘What?’

‘Careful, Cliff,’ Viv said.

I wanted to annoy Wilson, couldn’t help myself. ‘Misogynist,’ I said.

‘If this person doesn’t die,’ Viv said, ‘his statement amounts to nothing more than an accusation from a convicted criminal. And the wife’s statement is hearsay.’

Wilson nodded. ‘He’s dead. Just heard. He was murdered and your client’s name is the only one we have in connection with his death.’

‘You better look harder,’ I said. ‘His middle name was machismo, if it wasn’t arsehole, and-’

Viv cut in, ‘My client denies any involvement in the death of Mr Harvey. Unless you are prepared to charge him, and I hardly think that likely on what you’ve told us, he should be free to leave.’

To underline the point, Viv and I stood up.

Wilson hit the stop button. ‘It’s early days,’ he said.

Viv drove me home. We were turning into Glebe Point Road before he said, ‘What’s going on?’

‘Search me.’

‘Okay. There’s nothing to it, so you’re just going to sit quietly and let it fizzle out, right?’

‘What d’you think?’

His sigh lasted almost until we were outside my house.

I said, ‘I’ll be discreet and careful.’

‘That’ll be a first on both counts. Your licence is hanging by a thread, mate, as always. And remember that whatever you do on this you’re not getting paid.’