“This isn’t a trial,” I said.

“There’s no judge deciding guilt here.

These are questions about what you told us and what you arranged.”

He looked toward Weston as though the absent man might somehow occupy the room through Adrian’s reputation.

Nobody had invited him to adjudicate our dinner.

Nobody needed to.

I wanted Graham to hear the facts without another person’s authority rescuing him or defeating him.

“You know the result,” I said.