The psychologist stuck his hand out. ‘ChalmersDaveGoulding.’ Pronouncing it in a rush, as if it was all one word. ‘Please, sit, sit. Do you want tea, or coffee? We had some garibaldis, but. . .’ He glanced at the crumbs on the chaise longue. ‘Someone ate them.’

Logan pulled out Chalmers’s Post-it note, then stuck it in the middle of the glass desk.

Dave sniffed. Then picked it up. ‘A list of therapists? You’ve been seeing someone else? ’ A frown. ‘I have to admit that I’m a little bit hurt by that, Logan. I thought the talking therapy was working, and that’s why I hadn’t heard from you. You could’ve said something when I was helping out this morning—’

‘The four of you have been treating homeless men and women. For free.’

Bloody Chalmers was staring at him, one eyebrow raised as if she’d just heard he had a vestigial tail.

A frown. ‘Well . . . yes. Only trying to do our bit for society. These people are vulnerable and conventional—’

‘Do you know if any of you treated a Roy Forman? ’

Dave tilted his head to one side. ‘You could’ve just given us a phone: didn’t have to come all the way out here. Not that I’m not happy to see you again, but. . .? ’

‘I need a favour as well.’

‘Ah. I see.’ He steepled his fingers. ‘And have you been seeing someone else? ’

‘Dave, it’s important—’

‘Understand, my help isn’t conditional on your response, I’m just interested.’

Brilliant. Discuss whether or not he’d been seeing another therapist, with DS Chalmers standing there, staring at him. No way that would be all over the station by close of play. ‘No.’

‘Hmmm. . . In that case, what can I do for you? ’

‘Professor Richard Marks. He was treating a young woman called Agnes Garfield as part of some kind of trial programme? ’

Chalmers flipped open her notebook. ‘Comparative benefit analysis of cognitive behaviour therapy and medication in the treatment of wide spectrum psychological disorders.’

A little smile curled at the corner of Dave’s mouth. ‘Is he a suspect in something? Please tell me the baldy sausage-faced old moron’s a suspect. Is it molesting sheep? I’ll bet it is, he looks like the type, doesn’t he? ’

‘We think Agnes Garfield might have killed Roy Forman. Professor Marks is quoting doctor-patient confidentiality.’

Dave blinked. Then his eyes pinched nearly shut and he sank down into his big leather chair. ‘Roy’s dead? ’

‘We ID’d his body a couple of hours ago from a facial reconstruction. He was the necklacing victim.’

‘I can’t believe Roy’s dead. We’d made so much progress. . .’