‘Will we be getting paid for our help?’ Bloom turned into Margery Street.

‘No. Not paid. That’s why it’s called a favour. Look, I’ll explain when you get back. I just wanted to give you a heads-up, just so you don’t feel ambushed.’

She knew Jameson was lying. He hadn’t called to prevent her feeling ambushed. He’d called to plant a seed because he knew she couldn’t resist a mystery. Her mother’s missing and, well, it’s a bit weird. There was always a mystery. Sometimes they were hired by families wanting to find out what had happened to their loved ones when the police hit a brick wall. Or by the Crown Prosecution Service; or a defence barrister, if the crime was of a particularly obscure nature.

They had met at a conference. Augusta had been speaking on the primary motives behind criminal exploits. Jameson had sought her out and joked that no one was better placed to investigate mysteries than an ex-spy and a criminal psychologist. And six months later they began doing just that.

They made a good team. They were different. Augusta figured Jameson had been that boy at school. She assumed he’d been popular, funny, head boy and captain of the rugby team. And, despite being the most disorganized person she’d ever met, he had the confidence to carry himself with a firm, quiet authority. She, on the other hand, was organized to a fault.

Their office was a rented basement in Russell Square beneath a glossy PR firm. It was small and dark and suitably discreet.

When Bloom arrived, she found Jameson at his desk. His dark hair was a little too long, his curls falling over his eyes. He was wearing jeans and a shirt, and, as always, no tie. A teenage girl sat next to him wearing faded skinny jeans with intentional rips. She had long brown hair tied in a low ponytail and wore a plain grey jumper.

‘Jane,’ said Jameson, ‘this is Augusta.’

Bloom placed her bag on the floor and sat down behind her desk.

‘Jane often stays with my sister Claire when her mother is deployed oversees,’ said Jameson. ‘Lana’s in the Army. So we’ve known this one since she was a wee lassie. We’ve had many a fun BBQ and film night over the years, haven’t we? She’s my unofficial niece number three.’ The girl smiled warmly at him. ‘Can you tell Augusta what you told me, Jane?’

The girl’s voice was strong despite her puffy red eyes. ‘They said she left of her own accord and there’s nothing they can do. Even though I told them it’s all wrong.’

‘The police,’ clarified Jameson.

‘This is your mum?’ said Bloom.