As the meeting broke up and the team started bustling about, Jack slipped out.

In the middle of Susan’s lounge was a box full of items belonging to Mike: hats, shoes, underwear, toiletries. In her hand, she held one brown leather shoe.

“One shoe,” she said to Jack. “How did he not realize he’d only taken one shoe?”

She dropped the shoe into the box and closed the flaps.

“I’m sorry for disturbing you again,” said Jack. “I’ll be as quick as I can.”

“It’s fine. You’re a distraction from . . . whatever this is. If Mike had been here, sharing my life, I’d know how to deal with that. I’d cry and mourn and help the girls to do the same. But I’d already lost Mike. I’m sad for the girls, but I’m finding it hard to muster any sadness of my own.”

She went into the kitchen and Jack watched her make two mugs of tea.

“You recently spoke to my colleague about life with Mike,” he said. “I have a few more questions, if you don’t mind?”

He spoke gently, but was aware that he’d caught her at a point of maximum vulnerability.

Susan shrugged. “Fire away.”

“You mentioned to DC Joshi that Mike—and forgive me for mentioning this, but . . . that Mike was unfaithful. Was there any specific occasion that sticks in your mind?” Susan didn’t look up as she stirred the milk into the teas. “I have to ask, you see, because we need to understand what made Mike tick in those difficult years after he left the force. Understanding him is very important for us.”

Inwardly he winced. Was he overdoing it?

Susan looked down at the mugs of tea. “Mike once told me he’d been part of a raid on a brothel. They went in and cleared the place out, arrested everyone they found, girls and punters. Then, in the kitchen, he found a young girl hiding underneath the sink. She was fifteen, sixteen, and she wouldn’t come out. She stayed pressed against the wall, just out of his reach, crying and swearing blind that she just served drinks. Mike talked her out, took her to the station in his own car and made sure he was the one who took her statement. He didn’t know if she was one of the prostitutes or not, but he said he believed her story that she was nothing more than a maid . . . so she went free. The following week, he started working late.” Susan handed Jack his tea. “He did like his waifs and strays.”

“Are you suggesting that Mike may have had a relationship with this girl?”

“I don’t know what I’m suggesting, really. I can tell you that Mike had affairs. I can tell you that he liked to be needed. Did he sleep with a teenage girl? He’s capable of it, yes. I guess she’d have done anything to avoid custody. Maybe she saw him as a ‘hero’ for some reason. Mike wasn’t a rapist.”