‘If you stay down there longer than three days, I’m coming to camp in your room. I don’t think Premier Inn would notice an impostor. And they wouldn’t challenge a cop; I could be vital to the investigation.’

‘We’d get away with it, I’m sure.’

When they’d said goodnight and hung up, Kelly imagined Johnny meeting Matt, and wondered what they’d make of each other. They were so different. She pictured Matt staring at Johnny’s flip-flops, but also at his broad shoulders and assured eyes, and she knew she was with the right man. She closed her eyes and her mind floated to what Johnny had said. His daughter, Josie, was more than capable of looking after herself, and he was due some time off from mountain rescue volunteering. It might not be such a bad idea, having him to come home to after a day in the office with a man who constantly seemed to be pushing her buttons. Every time they got a quiet moment, Matt tried to fill it with some reference to how cosy they’d once been, and how well he knew her. It irritated the fuck out of her, but he was right about the latter.

Her phone went off again. Matt. Ears burning, she thought.

‘There’ve been no major developments, Kelly, though an artist has produced a good picture of one of the workmen who spoke to Alexandros’s neighbour, and we’ve got a close-up of all three men from the front view of the van, which I’ve sent nationwide. I was calling to see if you wanted to meet me for a nightcap, just to throw a few ideas round; maybe grab a bite to eat?’

Kelly stared at her phone. It was an innocent enough request. They were colleagues, working the same case, facing the same headaches – not to mention growing hunger – and she didn’t want any animosity to disrupt that. It had been easier than she’d thought, seeing him again; how could a few pints hurt?

‘Sure. The Premier Inn isn’t exactly fine dining, and I think their vending machine is out of egg mayo.’

‘Which one are you at?’

He could have accessed the information himself; after all, his force were paying for it.

‘Just under the North Circular at Brent Cross.’

‘I know it. I can be there in twenty minutes.’

‘Christ, give me a chance. Thirty?’

They hung up and Kelly looked in the mirror. She couldn’t be bothered drying her hair. The sun was shining through her curtains and it looked like a warm city evening. She slipped on a pair of jeans and a thin-knit V-neck, then slid her feet into some pumps and grabbed a jacket, just in case. At the last minute she applied a little make-up, simply because of her age – or at least that was what she told herself.