“What are you trying to say?” said Clarissa.

“I’m not saying Tan Sri Low arranged for it to happen,” said Ket Siong. “But he might have closed one eye. He might have been under pressure.” He thought of theHornbill Gazettepost that had mentioned Stephen. He hadn’t heard from the author, two weeks on, though he’d messaged again.

“It may not have had anything to do with your father’s business,” he said slowly. “Stephen may have known something. Something that threatened someone else, badly enough that they wanted to get rid of him. But if anyone has an idea what that was, your father might.

“Miss Low, I am not an activist or a reporter. If what you say about your father is true, he has nothing to fear from me. All I want is to know what happened to my friend.”

Clarissa was gazing down at the table. She raised her eyes to Ket Siong’s. “Let’s say my dad knows the answer. Let’s say he was even involved somehow. Wouldn’t you be worried something might happen to you? For trying to find out.”

It took Ket Siong a moment to understand that she genuinely thought this was a hypothetical scenario. “I am.”

Clarissa stared at him. Alicia reappeared before she mustered an answer.

“I had no idea it was getting so late,” said Alicia. “Clarissa, you’ve got that thing you need to go to, right?”

From the look the women exchanged, it was clear they had arranged this exit in advance. But Clarissa glanced back at Ket Siong and said, “I can stay a little longer, if that would be helpful.”

“I think we’re done,” said Ket Siong. “Thank you.”

“I don’t—I’m not sure I’ll be able to find anything out,” said Clarissa. “But I’ll try.” She hesitated. “How do I contact you? If there is anything.”

“Alicia has my number,” said Ket Siong. “You can pass on any messages through her.”

He stayed at the table after they had gone, staring out of the window.

Talking about Stephen had brought him so vividly before Ket Siong that it seemed strange to find himself looking out on the white skies and brown brick of London. He felt unreal, a ghost trespassing upon the living.

The real Ket Siong was back in Malaysia, leading the life he should have had. Expecting to see Stephen the next day or the day after, whenever he decided to drop by. They’d go for a run together, or a workout session at the gym, or out for a movie and a stint at their favourite mamak stall afterwards—Ket Hau would come if it didn’t involve exercise. Ket Siong had spent so many evenings defending his Maggi goreng mamak from his brother and Stephen while they talked about work, politics, football, everyone they knew…

But now he was here. And Stephen, most likely, was dead.

“Are you all right?”

It was the woman at the next table but one who’d spoken. She’d taken her Bose headphones off and was looking half-concerned, half-annoyed at being drawn away from her work. “Do you need…” She rummaged in her backpack and produced a tissue, holding it out to him.

“Thank you,” said Ket Siong. He wiped his eyes and got up to go.

Ket Siong checked his phone as he descended the stairs into the bookshop. Renee had messaged.

As an event, this was no longer as disturbing to his peace of mind as it would have been at the beginning of the week. They had been texting nearly continuously since their unscheduled dinner at the expensive Malaysian joint in Chelsea. Ket Hau hadstarted making pointed comments about how much time Ket Siong was spending on his phone: “Don’t tell me you’ve discovered Candy Crush fifteen years after everybody else.”

On this occasion, Renee had sent a video of a small child playing the piano. The accompanying text said:

This made me think of you.

Ket Siong was busy composing a reply when he heard his name.

“Ket!”

He blinked. Nathalie was by a stand of books directly in his line of sight (TRAVEL WITHOUT LEAVING YOUR HOME!said the sign). She was in a floral midi dress and white trainers. It was strange running into her, like being catapulted back in time to his student days.

“It is my mental health day,” she said, after Ket Siong apologised for blanking her. “I take a day off every month, so I do not kill either my co-workers or my family. I am buying a book, and then I will go for a pedicure. What areyoudoing today?”

There was a slightly unnerving glint in her eye.

“Just browsing,” said Ket Siong. “I’m teaching later today.”

“Hmm,” said Nathalie.