Liam looks like he’s putting in a lot of effort not to comment and a little of Reuben’s bluster is lost at Liam’s apparent lack of interest.

‘Anyway, as soon as filming stopped, we stopped. I haven’t seen her since.’

‘And the next time you see her just happens to be a few hours before she is murdered.’

It’s not a question, but I let the silence linger between us. In my experience, the person I’m talking to is often the one to break it and break it he does.

‘I know how it must look,’ he mutters.

‘How must it look, Mr. Amaro?’

He opens his mouth to reply, then thinks better of it. Maybe he’s better at holding a silence than I gave him credit for. Liam tries a different tack.

‘So Anna arrives. She hasn’t been invited by you, or so you claim.’ Amado attempts to interrupt but Liam holds a hand up. ‘So what happens next?’

‘She arrived at the bar and caused a stir. People were clamouring for a picture with her. I’d assumed when she had come in that it was a coincidence that she was there, but she searched around the bar for us and eventually caught my eye. It’s like she came to Limas knowing I was there. Her and her friend made their way over to our table. We hugged and shot the shit for a while, discussed our current projects and whatnot.’

‘Was she drunk?’

‘Not when she arrived, no. But about an hour after she arrived, suddenly she was out of it. She was falling over and bumping into people on the dance floor so Ed and I decided that the best thing to do was to get her home. We managed to get her off the dance floor and over to the bar to get her some water, then we took her outside. Ed got a bus from just outside the bar and I took her to a hotel just up the street and paid the receptionist. I would’ve put her in a taxi home but she couldn’t tell me her address. Then I walked home.’

‘So the receptionist of the hotel could verify this?’

‘Well, no,’ he says, slowly. ‘Actually, now that I think about it, I was going to pay the receptionist but Anna refused to go into the hotel. We argued in front of the building but she wouldn’t budge, so I gave her the money and walked away. I assume she went in.’

‘So no one can vouch for you?’

‘I live alone so no-one can tell you that I got home, but I did,’ he shrugs. I scribble in my notebook to try and get the CCTV near the hotel. I also need to check if Ed, whoever he may be, definitely got the bus outside the bar.

‘Who is this Ed fella you were meeting?’ I ask.

‘Ed Bennett, he’s an author. He wrote The Threat books, you might’ve heard of them? He and I go way back, we went to university together. When he sold the film rights, he got me the director gig. I’d just won an award at Cannes for a short film, so it was great timing. Blood Ice was my first feature length so I owe him! We wrapped on the second in the series too a few months ago, the premiere is in a couple of weeks.’