Lindsay stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in a white fluffy bath towel. “Theoretically, you’re right. But there’s a signal lack of motive here. I can’t think of any reason why Laura Craig would want to off Union Jack. Maybe the answer is buried in the past, along with poor old Ian. Just call it a hunch, as Quasimodo said to Esmerelda.”

Sophie’s heart sank. This wasn’t the time to remind Lindsay that hunches weren’t her strong point.

Blackpool looked more like a ghost town than a holiday resort. A salty fog swirled patchily through the streets, adding gothic emphasis to the eerie emptiness of the pavements. Sophie followed the signs that led to the prom. “And this is the famous Golden Mile, is it?” she remarked as she pulled up on double yellow lines. The neon signs from the amusement arcades and seedy hotels barely penetrated the mist. Every few minutes, ancient trams loomed out of the gloom like strange hallucinations from the past and hurtled on towards Fleetwood or the South Shore, their clatter muffled by the fog. “Do you mean to tell me that it’s for this that thousands of Glaswegians desert their native city for a fortnight every July? Dear God!”

“Tell me about it,” Lindsay said. “Don’t forget, I once spent a week here at a JU conference. At least in Torremolinos you tend to get decent weather.”

A traffic warden materialized out of a thick patch of fog. “Wouldn’t you just know it?” Sophie complained, starting the engine of Helen’s tinny Toyota.

“No, wait!” Lindsay said, opening the door and climbing out on to the pavement. “Thank goodness you’ve come along!” Sophie heard as the car shook to Lindsay’s resounding door slam.

A few moments later, Lindsay jumped back into the car, clutching a sheet from the traffic warden’s notebook. “Natural charm, that’s all it takes. Even traffic wardens like to feel needed. Okay, straight ahead, then take the second right by the Balmoral Bar and Grill,” she said with a slight shudder.

Ten minutes later, Lindsay was forced to admit she’d chosen the one traffic warden who either hated all visitors or didn’t know her left from her right. Furious, she stomped into the nearest newsagent’s, where she borrowed their telephone directory then bought an A-Z. It took a further ten minutes to zigzag through the one-way system to the sixties office block that housed the coroner’s office.

As they stood waiting for the lift to carry them to the fifth floor, Lindsay said casually, “I still haven’t come up with a good cover story for this little exercise.”

Sophie grinned. “I love you, Lindsay Gordon,” she said.