‘She was trying to protect Francesca, spare her from any embarrassment. Even after yesterday when she walked without notice, breaking the terms of her contract with Norma and basically treating her boss like shit. She didn’t want Francesca exposed as an internet dater. I feel sorry for the woman.’

As she spoke, Clay reconsidered the information and wondered, but just why did you leave so suddenly, Francesca?

‘Anything else, Karl?’ asked Clay.

‘Yes. I asked Daniel Ball for a list of names, employees of Maguire Holdings present and past. We need to know exactly who’s on Francesca’s radar.’

Stone looked out into the rain.

‘Spit it out, Karl,’ said Clay.

‘When I asked, he was guarded. I threw in a spoiler. Francesca resigned. Anybody else resigned from Maguire Holdings? He said he’d look into his records and let us know.’

‘What about the girls and boys on the office floor? What did they know about Francesca?’

‘Nothing. She was popular, hard-working, kept herself to herself socially after work finished. Except for the staff nights out when Norma used to take them to a restaurant and pay the bill for them all.’

‘Was this a regular occurrence?’

‘Monthly. She’s a bit of a task mistress but she’s a popular boss. I asked Daniel Ball how long he’d worked at Maguire Holdings. Twenty-two years. So what he doesn’t know isn’t worth a penny. But he had nothing more to add than the people who’d been there for a much shorter time.’

He sat up, covered his mouth with his hand to conceal a lengthy yawn.

‘Ever heard of Cecily Levin, Karl?’

The picture on Norma’s desk danced in Clay’s mind.

‘No. That name means nothing to me, Eve.’

Clay found the picture from Norma Maguire’s desk on Google Images and showed it to Stone.

‘The face rings a bell though.’

‘I thought as much, Karl. You love your retro TV and movies.’

‘Who is she?’

‘Norma Maguire’s mother. She was an actress, 1960s and 70s, theatre, TV and film. I’ll ask Barney Cole to go on a fishing expedition on the internet.’

‘I know her face but I don’t know where from.’ Stone looked closely at the screen of Clay’s iPhone. ‘A twentieth-century actress?’ he asked himself out loud. ‘How is she of interest to us, Eve?’

Clay half-shrugged. ‘The way I see it, Norma Maguire’s a little strange around Francesca Christie. This picture of her mother’s making me itch. I just want that itch scratched and then let’s move on.’

As she watched Stone’s eyes processing information, the silence between them became deeper.

She pricked the silence with a pair of words. ‘Cecily Levin?’

‘Feels like I might have had a dim and distant crush on her when I was a kid. Mind you, which actress didn’t I have a crush on?’