Danny stared at the sheet before him for a long time, as if it would make the problem miraculously disappear. With a frustrated grunt, he logged on to the computer beside him and went hunting for what she had requested. She watched as the electronic dots darted around the screen before him. ‘In the office until eight p.m. Then at home in Pimlico.’ He closed in on the screen. ‘No activity at all there until the phone goes off at eleven p.m.’

‘How about Julie?’

‘Are you really going to do this, Kate?’

‘I have to.’

He checked Julie next. The screen remained blank all night. ‘Phone off.’ Kate nodded. ‘Who next?’

‘Ian.’ He pulled up the log. ‘Busy between five and six,’ he said, ‘something going on.’ The dot on the screen clearly located Ian in his office.

‘Then . . .’ The dot moved across London now and Danny closed in on its final destination. ‘Chelsea . . . That’s home, right?’

‘Frith Street, yes.’

‘Okay, yeah, so home. One more burst of communication at nine p.m., then phone off.’ Danny turned to her. ‘You haven’t asked for my phone log.’ There was a strange glint in his eye. He was smiling knowingly at someone over Kate’s shoulder.

She whipped around to see Julie’s departing wisps of auburn hair. She turned back. ‘Another complication.’

‘What kind?’

‘Anything going on between you and Julie? I know that look.’

‘No!’

‘Are you sure?’

‘I think I’m entitled to say it’s none of your business.’

‘She’s only just broken off with Ian.’

‘Nothing’s going on.’

‘I’m not going to ask if you know what you’re doing.’ She smiled at him and stood. ‘Thanks for your help.’

‘Remember me when I’ve been sacked,’ he said.

She’d got almost to the door before she had a final thought. She turned back. ‘Could you just do one other thing? How about the logs of Rav’s phone for the weekend before his death?’

Danny pulled them up. Rav’s phone was consistently located at his home on Sunday, but it was switched off all day on Saturday. ‘That’s . . . odd,’ Kate said.

Danny nodded. ‘I guess so.’

‘Why would he have his phone switched off all day?’ she asked.

He shrugged. ‘Maybe he just wanted some peace. Maybe he had another phone.’

Kate thanked him again and went to get her bag from the office. She ran out into the rain and caught a taxi to the Fulham townhouse that Rav’s former partner, Zac, shared with his wife. They and their children were gathered around the kitchen table, a picture of familial warmth in a pool of light on this dreary night. She almost lost her nerve, but she rang the bell before she could change her mind. Zac came to answer and the expression on his handsome, youthful, slender face moved from neutral curiosity to visceral hate. ‘You,’ he said.