A small blue Hyundai came slowly into the reserved area, and Simon put away his phone.

‘Mrs Vines . . . you can park here, next to me.’

Lynn Vines was wearing a black coat, dark grey trousers, black boots. Mourning of a sort.

‘Thank you so much, Mr Serrailler, I’m so grateful to you for being here. I didn’t know if you would.’

She spoke warmly, but her expression was oddly blank, as if she had determined not to show anything of what she felt, any trepidation, reluctance or distress. She might have been about to walk into an office or a shop, rather than a hospital mortuary.

She paused briefly at the door of the viewing room and closed her eyes, so that for a moment Simon wondered if she was going to back out or start to cry. But she did neither; she took a deep breath, straightened her back, and went in.

‘Thank you,’ Simon said when they were back by their cars. ‘I do know how hard that was. Will you be all right to drive yourself home?’

‘I’m fine, I’m better than I thought I would be which maybe seems strange.’

‘No. It can be a great relief.’

‘I feel that. I was dreading it and I was praying it wouldn’t be Liam, but now I know, I can face what happened to him. It’s a rubbish sort of life, Mr Serrailler. How can anyone see that photo of my brother, in that dump of a place, and think there’s any glamour or any cleverness in it? Do you know what I hate most? Those smart people who think they can shoot up or snort coke at parties and it’s just a bit of fun, a high, all friends together, they can afford it, no harm done. Jesus. If they knew, if they saw . . . he wasn’t a bad boy, you know – he was a bit weak, but he was only twenty-two, for God’s sake. He really didn’t have any bad in him.’

‘I’m sure of it . . . not many of the ones who end up as he did are bad. Stupid sometimes, easily led, weak, as you said, but not bad. It’s the dealers who are bad, not the victims – because that is what they are. That’s what Liam was.’ He touched her shoulder. ‘Thank you again. Are you going to see your family now?’

She nodded. ‘I have to tell Mum and Derek, and my sister . . . they’re waiting to hear. What will happen next?’

‘There will be an inquest. Identity is established now, and the cause of death, so it should be quite straightforward.’

‘Will anybody be – will you find out who led him into this?’

‘Almost certainly not, I’m afraid. Liam was the only one who could have told us that.’

‘So he just went up there into that crappy room and killed himself.’