Cheryl gestured towards the staircase. Esson began climbing, Clarke pausing a couple of steps up when she saw Cheryl was planning to follow.

‘Maybe you could stay down here for a bit? We’ll give you a shout when we’re done.’

‘If it’s to do with Francis, shouldn’t I …?’

‘Like I say, just a couple of small things we need to clear up. I really would appreciate you leaving us to it.’

‘If you say so.’

‘Thank you.’ She managed a thin smile before starting to climb again.

Stephanie Pelham was seated by the large windows, her phone on the arm of the chair. She didn’t bother acknowledging that anyone had entered the room. While Esson closed the door, Clarke approached the chair.

‘Hello there,’ she said.

‘Hello.’

‘Want to hazard a guess why we’re back?’

‘Not particularly.’ Pelham reached down to the floor and picked up her glass. There was an inch of white wine in it, which she drained. Only then did she meet Clarke’s eyes.

‘You know Chris Agnew, don’t you?’ Clarke began.

‘Do I?’

‘You’re saying you’ve never met him?’ She watched the woman shrug. ‘So it’s just a phone thing between the two of you?’

‘We know each other,’ Pelham conceded.

‘I’m assuming you met through Francis?’

‘How else?’

‘And the two of you got friendly – friendly enough for lots of chats and texts?’ Clarke unfolded and held up the sheet of calls.

‘So?’

‘So he was – is – your lover at a time when you’re finalising your divorce?’

‘Did I say that?’

‘And according to witnesses, Agnew was no fan of Francis. I’m assuming that’s because of what Francis did to Cheryl – stands to reason Agnew would have sided with you.’

Pelham studied her glass and readied to get to her feet. Clarke held a hand out, telling her to stay seated.

‘He can’t have been happy,’ she continued, ‘when he heard Francis had barged into your house and threatened you. I mean, I’ve seen the recording – he isn’t physical or anything, but there’s that finger-pointing he does. You did feel threatened, you said.’

Pelham’s eyes narrowed slightly. ‘You think Chris might have done something? Got mad and gone after Francis?’

‘What do you think, Stephanie?’

She drew in a breath and widened her eyes again, as if considering the possibility.

Clarke’s phone pinged and she lifted it to her eyeline. Agnew was on his way to Leith with Gamble and Leighton.

Said straight off he hasn’t done anything. We hadn’t even told him why we were there. Keeps mumbling about Rob Driscoll cracking up. Oh, and he wants a solicitor.

She tucked the phone into her pocket again.

‘I suppose he could have,’ Pelham was saying, drawing out each word.

‘If we bring him in for questioning, what do you think he’ll say?’

‘I’ve really no idea.’