Richard sighed. ‘It’s to do with the missing person case, is it? I hear she’s an “internet sensation”. Not that I’d ever heard of the girl.’ Richard was like one of those famously out-of-date High Court judges who used to ask who the Beatles were or if ‘Gazza’ was an opera.

‘It’s certainly high profile,’ I said.

‘Right. Well, from what I’ve heard, it sounds as though you have it under control.’

I wasn’t about to argue, but that was hardly an optimum summary of the situation.

Richard rearranged the pencils on his desk into the shape of an ‘H’. Was he sending subconscious messages? Was it a cry for help?

‘How was your holiday?’ I asked.

It was a mystery who he’d gone with, and one that Jai was determined to get to the bottom of. Richard had been so cagey that we suspected romance was in the air. ‘It was good,’ he said.

‘Where was it you went again?’

He took one of the tiny cactus plants which adorned his desk and examined it. ‘South Africa.’

‘Wow. Amazing. On a safari?’

‘That’s right.’

‘Did you go alone?’

He popped the cactus down and looked straight at me. ‘Nope.’

‘Anyone we know?’ I was pushing my luck, baiting Richard because it took my mind off that video. Stopped me thinking about the gentle manner of the pig before it died, and the silver knife at my throat, still wet with the pig’s blood.

‘Hasn’t anyone watered these while I’ve been away?’ Richard said.

‘Er … Aren’t they supposed to live in the desert?’

‘Meg …’

‘Yes?’ He made me nervous when he adopted that tone. ‘Craig’s wife’s been in touch with some concerns.’

My insides sank. Not more from the WAGs. ‘What did she say?’

‘She was worried he’d been attacked. Did you notice the injury?’

‘I did notice he had a small cut above his eye. I don’t know where he got it from.’

‘She’s under the impression he’d sustained the injury at work.’

I frowned. ‘I’m almost certain he didn’t.’

‘Maybe you could have a word with him?’

‘I’m not sure that’s the best idea.’ Richard clearly didn’t know Craig very well if he thought I could go all pastoral on him. The last thing I needed was a pissed-off Craig on the rampage.

I stood in front of the team, still struggling to get the image of that knife out of my mind. Violet’s sparkly smile beamed down at us. The air in the room felt too heavy, as if it had been replaced by an alternative atmosphere from a planet not quite right for human habitation. And someone had forgotten to wash. This was not the week to experiment with eco deodorant and cycling to work, or with one of our new special-issue ‘wicking technology’ tops.