The news of Nick’s murder had got there ahead of me. It was already late in the afternoon. I realised I’d lost all track of time. I must have been with the police for hours. Kate and Adam were waiting, opening the door as soon as I got out of the police car, sweeping me into their living room, where I sat and sobbed wetly whilst they plied me with alcohol and wrapped me in a blanket of sympathy and concern. Kate wanted to feed me but, for once in my life, I wasn’t hungry. Morris and Ricky phoned, having been trying to get through to me at my flat without success, but I asked Adam to tell them I’d speak to them tomorrow.

When I finally managed to convince Adam and Kate that I really did want to be on my own, I went upstairs and soaked myself in a long, hot bath, staring numbly at the glistening bubbles until the water grew cold. I was just hauling myself off to bed when the phone rang. I meant to ignore it, but ran to answer it when I heard Paul’s voice leaving a message.

‘Juno, are you all right?’ he asked when I picked up. ‘I’ve been worried sick about you.’ His voice sounded shaky.

‘Oh … you’ve heard?’

‘Yes. God, Juno! It’s terrible! Poor Nick … I’d … I’d have phoned earlier but I’ve only just got back home. I’ve been with Nottinghamshire police all evening. They sent officers round to tell me what had happened and took a statement. Not that I could tell them much.’

‘Did they ask you about the Russians?’

‘Yes. I told them all I knew, not that it amounts to much.’ He hesitated a moment. ‘They took my fingerprints.’

‘That’s just for elimination,’ I explained hastily. ‘They took mine too. I had to tell them of anyone I knew who’d recently been in the flat.’

‘They also asked me to account for my movements last night.’

I caught my breath. ‘But … they can’t suspect you! You were in Nottingham …’

‘Well, I was on my way. Fortunately, I stopped for petrol at Gordano Services and I was able to show them the receipt with the time on it. And they can check the service station CCTV, if they want to. Actually, there was a crash on the motorway and I was held up, didn’t get home until the early hours.’

‘Jesus, Paul! I’m sorry!’

‘They wouldn’t have been doing their job properly if they hadn’t asked, I suppose. But it’s you I’m worried about … I’m sorry you had to go through that. It must have been horrible.’

‘I’m all right.’ I could hear my voice cracking. I wasn’t all right. I was struggling not to start sobbing down the phone. ‘Poor Nick,’ I managed at last. ‘D’you think—?’