And so Paula worked her way through the final Saturday again. Anya confirmed what Ashley had told them, and had nothing to add. But when she turned to the subject of Nadia’s ex-boyfriend, Anya turned slightly in her seat, away from Paula, and abruptly became noncommittal.

Whatever was making her uncomfortable, Paula was determined to get to the heart of it. ‘There’s something more, isn’t there, Anya? Something you don’t want to tell us?’ Her voice was gentle. ‘Nothing you say can hurt Nadia now, Anya. But I think she’d want you to tell us anything that could help bring her killer to justice.’

Anya shook her head. ‘It’s nothing. It’s not connected to her death. It’s just… nothing.’

‘Anya, I’m trained to make connections that nobody else can see. But if you don’t give me something to work with, I can’t make anything. Please, tell me what you know.’

Anya blew her nose noisily. ‘Pawel – he has no wife and children.’

If she’d been intent on stopping them in their tracks, she’d succeeded. Even Paula, the consummate interviewer, faltered. ‘What? What do you mean, no wife and children?’

Anya looked embarrassed. ‘The row, in the nightclub? The woman? I was at the bar, getting drinks. I was on my way back when it happened, the woman shouting and accusing Pawel and taking their photo. I think if I had been with them, it wouldn’t have happened. Well, it wouldn’t have happened then.’

This was making no sense. ‘I don’t understand,’ Paula said.

‘I know this woman. Maria is her name, I don’t know her family name. She isn’t even from Gdansk. She worked in a bar in Lvov, where I used to live. I couldn’t figure out what was going on. I didn’t say anything at the time, because I wanted to get the truth. So next evening, I went to the coffee shop where she works now. It’s out at the university, we never go there normally. And I told her, I know you’re lying about Pawel. Tell me what’s going on or I bring Anya here and make you tell her.’ She fiddled endlessly with the cheap silver rings on her fingers.

‘And what was it she told you?’

Anya looked haunted and hunted. ‘I want to go outside, I need to smoke.’ She jumped to her feet and headed for the door. The detectives followed her as she ran down the hallway and out the front door. They rounded the corner of the building and saw her slip behind a steel container. By the time they caught up, she had a cigarette at her lips, her fingers shaking uncontrollably. Paula took her lighter from her pocket and held the flame to Anya’s cigarette, taking the opportunity to have one of her own in spite of Fielding’s frown. ‘What was it, Anya?’