‘Why are you looking for her?’ A voice from the back, deep and male, heavily accented. One of the men she’d put at forty or forty-five stood slightly apart, tall anyway but elevated further by his position halfway up the steps to the church door. He had a full head of salt-and-pepper hair and a black overcoat over dark trousers. Robin thought briefly of Kev.

‘She used to work for a woman who died. Corinna Legge. I need to talk to her.’

In a second, the group parted, even the tiny woman on her cane moving at surprising speed. He came towards Robin, pulled up to his full height, shoulders back, occupying as much space as he could. Her turn on the receiving end of the intimidation.

‘Are you police?’

‘Yes.’ She fronted it out. So don’t even think about trying anything.

‘Your ID?’

‘In the car.’

He snorted, derisive, then came closer, bringing his face so near to hers that she could smell old coffee on his breath as he uttered a string of words as incomprehensible to her as their intent was absolutely crystal. He waved a hand towards the gate as if he was flicking crumbs off a tablecloth. ‘Go – get out.’

The rest of the group stared at the ground as if trying to render themselves invisible.

‘No one here will talk to you,’ he said, following her gaze. ‘There is no point for you to stay.’

Robin looked at the elderly woman. Her eyes were bright, taking it all in, enjoying the drama. She wasn’t intimidated by the big guy, she was out beyond his reach, too old to be beaten or scared by bully-boy tactics, seen it all before and didn’t think much of it then.

‘What did he say to me?’ Robin asked.

The woman smiled, revealing a set of perfect pearly false teeth. ‘He said, you’re not police, you’re a pimp.’

Chapter Twenty

Robin had to hand it to Lennie: she was very good at keeping a mood going. ‘Way better than me,’ she’d said to Christine, back down in the kitchen. Maybe Len got it from her father – who knew? She’d opened the bedroom door just now to find her curled over the desk like a question mark – how had she never noticed how bad the ergonomics were, with that chair? The door was eighteen inches from Len’s elbow so she had to have known Robin was there but nonetheless, when Robin touched her shoulder, she’d jumped and given her a look of pure outrage, as if she’d deliberately set out to creep up on her. With an air of long suffering, she’d taken out one earbud. ‘What?’

‘I came up to say hello – I’ve just got back. How was school?’

‘I’m doing my homework,’ she said. ‘Unless dinner’s ready?’

‘Not yet.’