More silence. ‘A couple of times,’ he said slowly, ‘over the summer, late summer, like, August, September, I did think she seemed … spacy.’ His voice was quieter again. ‘Nothing extreme, just, like, somewhere else mentally, you know? Distracted. But actually, she stood us up a couple of times, too – me and Lucy. Once she was supposed to come out and we were sitting in the pub waiting for her and she just didn’t show up, no text, didn’t answer her phone. She said she’d fallen asleep.’

‘How about recently?’

‘She’s been wiped out, sometimes, knackered, but I put it down to her working so much, I didn’t think anything of it.’

‘Have you seen any physical signs, Harry? On her body.’

Another long pause, then, ‘You’re asking if she was injecting, aren’t you? Is that what you heard?’

‘We don’t know,’ she said. ‘I wanted to ask you.’

‘I never saw it,’ he said. ‘But I wouldn’t necessarily know if I did. Track marks, that kind of thing – I’ve seen it on TV. In real life, though, or anything subtle … This guy – Stevo. What the fuck?’

When Maggie emerged from the back office, she was pulling a whiteboard about six foot by four foot on its long edge. ‘God almighty,’ she said. ‘If it wasn’t so early, I’d have a drink.’

‘She didn’t take it well?’

‘She did not.’

Robin helped her slide the board over to the window. ‘Where did this come from?’

‘Behind the filing cabinets. I don’t use it very often but I thought we could put up what we’ve got so far, make a plan of campaign. Thought an investigation board might make you feel at home. Here, let’s rest it on a couple of chairs, for a bit of height – if you grab that one.’ She took markers and a lump of white tack out of her pocket then went back to the little office, returning with a handful of print-outs. ‘Okay.’