‘Oh, for God’s sake,’ I muttered. I glanced at Alex to see if she was having a similar effect on him, but he was savaging his nails, almost scowling, staring over at the florist as she put another bucket of greenery out on the pavement.

DI Fox suddenly materialised at the front door, his pretty DS close behind him. ‘Morning,’ he said coolly. ‘DI Fox. And you are?’

‘I’m Stefano from Costana and Mortimer, and this, this is Fay. She’s a prospective buyer.’

Fay stuck out that willing hand again. ‘Hi.’ Then she screwed up her little nose in thought. ‘You look kind of familiar, DI Fox.’

‘Oh yeah?’ He considered her briefly.

‘I know.’ She clapped a hand to her heart. ‘From the TV show: I Overcame a Trauma.’

I groaned quietly.

‘I ’spect that’s it. Weren’t my finest hour, it must be said.’ Did DI Fox wink at me then? The DS’s radio crackled loudly and she stepped away.

‘Anyway, in the circumstances, I’m afraid you can’t go in,’ Fox said. ‘This is currently a crime scene, while we wait for fingerprints to be taken. I’ll have to ask you to come back.’

‘A crime scene?’ Costana shifted from brogue to shiny brogue, scowling slightly.

‘There’s been a break-in,’ Fox explained. The DS was now signalling to an unmarked car pulling up through the dispersing fog.

‘A break-in? I see.’ Impatiently Costana tapped a glossy set of details for the flat against his thigh. ‘It’s not exactly a great selling point, is it?’ He glared at me and then smiled apologetically at Fay.

‘So sorry about that,’ I muttered.

‘Are you Maggie’s boyfriend? You’re lovely and tall, aren’t you?’ Fay was smiling up at Alex. ‘I thought you were single, Maggie, you naughty girl.’

I bit down so hard on my lip that I tasted blood.

‘Ex,’ Alex said wearily. ‘Ex-boyfriend.’

Fay twinkled knowingly. ‘Aha.’

‘Excuse me,’ I said faintly, ‘but I’m not feeling all that wonderful.’ If I didn’t leave immediately, it might just become a murder scene. I gathered up my various bags. Perhaps it was the fog; perhaps it was just sheer desperation to get away from Fay, but somehow I went flying as I stepped off the pavement in search of peace.

I whacked my head on the kerb as I fell, and my mobile went straight down the gutter. There was a big hullabaloo, I remembered afterwards, with potatoes and Cornish Yarg and little tomatoes rolling all over the road, and then someone phoned my father and asked him to collect me as I sat with my head between my knees for a while. The DS gave me the once-over but nothing was really damaged apart from my pride.