Blister pack of strong painkillers. Paula frowned. She didn’t think you could get these off prescription. When she’d torn a muscle in her calf a few months before and she’d been in excruciating pain for a couple of days, Elinor had sneaked her a couple from the hospital, swearing her to secrecy. Paula had teased her about it. ‘Is one of your post-op patients on paracetamol tonight, then?’ Elinor had confessed that they were samples from a pharmaceutical rep.

‘All doctors have a drawer stuffed with freebies,’ she said. ‘You’d think we’d know better, but we self-medicate like mad.’

Was the victim a doctor? Or someone who had a problem with pain? Paula filed the question away for now and returned to the bag’s contents. Three pens; one from a hotel, one from a stationery supply chain, one from an animal charity. A bunch of keys – a Fiat car key, two Yales, two mortises. House, car, office? House, car, somebody else’s house? No way of telling yet. A couple of crumpled receipts from a Freshco Express in Harriestown revealed a taste for pepperoni pizza, chicken tikka pies and low-fat strawberry yoghurt.

The iPhone would be the treasure trove. Paula woke it from its slumber. The screen saver was a fluffy tortoiseshell cat lying on its back. When she tried to open the screen, it demanded a password. That meant the phone would have to go off to the technical team, where one of the geeks would unlock its mysteries eventually. Not like on MIT, where their own IT specialist Stacey Chen was always on tap. Stacey would have coaxed every last morsel of data from the phone in record time, speeding the investigation on its way. But here in her brave new world, Paula’s evidence would have to join the queue. No rush jobs here; the budget wouldn’t take the strain. Frustrated, she wrote a label for the phone and bagged it separately.

All that remained was a slim metal case and a fat wallet. She flicked open the case to reveal a short stack of business cards. Nadia Wilkowa was apparently the North West Area Representative for Bartis Health. There was a web address as well as a mobile number and email address for Nadia. Paula took out her phone and rang the number. The bagged iPhone did a jittering shimmy across the table before the voicemail cut in. ‘Hi, this is Nadia Wilkowa.’ There was a faint East European accent, but it had been almost completely painted over by polite Bradfield. ‘I’m sorry I can’t talk to you right now, but please leave a message and I’ll return your call as soon as I can.’ A welcome confirmation.