‘Because you’re asking too many questions not to believe it. And I looked your family up – it’s not like you’re squeaky clean. If it’s a murder . . . that means there’s a murderer. I have a certain obligation to the safety of our guests.’

I was a bit affronted by her allusion to my family history, and I tightened up. ‘Shouldn’t you be sharing this evidence’—that word fell out of my mouth with a clunk; even though I was thinking it was a murder, it was still just a dead man in the snow, and calling it evidence seemed to formalise it too much for my liking—‘I mean, information, with Crawford and not me?’

‘I don’t know Crawford – he was clearly sent as the errand boy for an accident. Now they know it’s serious, Martin – he’s the sergeant – will be headed up here with detectives from the city if he needs them. But my money’s on them not getting through this storm any time soon, if he’s not stuck already. And, shit, well, fine, I’ll just say it: I don’t think Crawford knows what the hell he’s doing.’

‘Neither do I,’ I admitted.

‘I’ll confess I’m hitching my cart to the best horse. You’re the lawyer.’

‘I’m not a lawyer. I’m a writer.’

‘Why’d your brother say you were, then?’

‘I don’t know. I help other people write crime books, so I guess I’m pretty good at guessing the endings? Maybe he thinks I can solve it.’ I offered this with the kind of upwards inflection that meant even I knew it sounded weak, so I turned my attention back to the video.

The playback had now passed dawn, and the night-vision filter had switched off so the screen was a dull grey instead of green. Crawford’s police car was now in frame, time-stamp around quarter to seven, heading towards the guesthouse as he arrived. It didn’t have tinted windows, so I could see Crawford had one arm stretched across the passenger seat, head tilted in a clear side-profile, yawning exuberantly. It must have been an early wake-up to get up here by that time.

‘Who found the body?’ I asked. There were no blobby shadows between Marcelo’s car returning and Crawford arriving: no victim, no killer. ‘Like, who called it in? It must have been early. No one seems traumatised.’

‘You’ll have to ask Crawford, I’m not sure.’