‘I got hold of Tarryn on Friday night,’ Robin said. ‘Via Instagram, like you suggested. She said Becca told her she’d stopped using. She’d bumped into Stevo in town and, I’m quoting here, “He looked like shit”. She had a moment of clarity, decided to pack it in.’

He turned. ‘When?’

‘October. Around her birthday. On the phone, I asked you if you’d ever seen any physical signs of it. You said no, right? And that lately she hadn’t been flaky or unreliable, just knackered? She was working a lot – that makes sense. And if she’d been injecting regularly, it’s unlikely she’d have been able to stop.’

‘That’s major, Harry,’ Maggie said. ‘Good news.’

‘Tell us what happened with Valerie.’

He pulled out a chair and sat down. ‘She assumed I gave Becca drugs because I’m black.’

Maggie shook her head. ‘Let’s not jump to conclusions. I know you’re angry, and that’s completely understandable, but try to give her the benefit of the doubt if you can. Her daughter’s missing, she’s under a massive amount of strain – you know what that’s like. It’s probably our fault. We had to tell her about the two of you seeing each other, and we also told her Becca was given drugs by someone she’d had a fling with. She put two and two together and got five.’

A snort. ‘Is that why she called me a fucking black bastard?’

Robin saw Maggie stiffen. ‘Did she?’

‘She came barging in here, into my office, my business, and told me she knew what I’d done, that I was a “fucking black bastard” who’d given her daughter drugs, shagged her then killed her.’

‘Harry, I’m so sorry.’

‘It was like – I don’t know what it was like. I’ve always thought she was weird. I didn’t know if it was just me or if she was like that with everyone. I said to Becca a couple of times I didn’t think she liked me.’

‘And what did she say?’

‘Not to be daft, I was imagining it. She said her mum was just shy and people took her the wrong way.’ He shook his head. ‘I think she would have hit me if it hadn’t meant actually touching me. She said I’d been “sniffing round her daughter” for years, she’d seen the way I looked at her. As if I was some kind of animal. As if I wasn’t fit to be Becca’s friend, even, given what I am. Which, by the way, is mixed race – my dad’s white. She might have said more but I opened the door and told her to get out.’

‘What was Becca’s own relationship with her like?’ Robin asked.