‘Not really. I remember last year some pillock spilled a pint of raspberry cider or some such horror in my lap and I spent the rest of the evening feeling like I was wearing a wet nappy. Alfonso’s wife lent me a hair-dryer but it didn’t help much. And then there was an hour-long wait for a taxi in the pissing rain. But you go ahead, enjoy yourself.’

Naylor smiles.

‘Thanks. I’m sure I will.’

‘Who’s your date, Rach?’

‘I haven’t really got one.’

‘Not a certain senior officer from Traffic, I hope?’

Naylor feels a deep blush rise up her neck and cheeks.

‘What d’you mean?’

‘Don’t you mean who do I mean? You know who I mean. Stop wasting your time there, for pity’s sake. He’s got form. You’re not the first and you won’t be the last.’

‘How do you know about that?’

‘Aha. Uncle Ron’s network of spies runs right through that building. I didn’t climb the slippery pole without knowing who’s shagging who.’

‘Bastard. Anyway, that’s long over. I told him where to go over the summer, so your info’s not as current as you’d like to think.’

‘How do you know? Betcha I can put the name of the man you’ll be leaving with tonight in a sealed envelope right now and I’d be right.’

‘You do that, then. I’m not planning on leaving with anyone.’

‘We’ll see. Anyway, to be truthful I wasn’t calling to find out who you’ll be kissing under the mistletoe. I was wondering how the Ferrers case was going, whether the Keslake abduction has given you any kind of leg-up.’

Naylor sighs.

‘We’re getting close. Evan’s talking at last and we think he was taken to Sunderland, so obviously there’s massive activity up there. But it’s hard to know what’s reliable witness statement and what’s distorted by his being under the influence of the drugs they were giving him. He’s mentioned tattoos, buying spiders, The Magic Roundabout. At least we’ve got plenty to go at. The bad news is, he thinks he wasn’t alone, that there may have been a girl there with him. Ron? Are you still there?’

‘I’m here,’ says Ron thoughtfully. ‘That’s ringing a bell, somehow.’

‘What is?’

‘A distant, forgotten bell,’ says Ron. ‘But it’ll come back to me.’

‘So go and lie down in a dark and silent room until you remember.’

‘I’ll do better than that. I’ll spend half an hour having a wade through my notes. You never know what I might find in there. Well, I’d better let you get on. No doubt you’ll be stepping into a fragrant bubble bath with a glass of fizz to get you in the party mood. Shame I can’t join you.’

‘Cheeky.’