The woman gave an unpleasant laugh. ‘Have you met her? How many men do you think she attracts? Those too drunk to get up the stairs. She hangs out in the Coble because the locals feel sorry for her and buy her drinks. She might have done a bit of business a few years ago, but now she’s just a laughing stock.’

‘Are you in the same line yourself?’

She laughed again. ‘I’m a reformed character. Check my record.’

‘Dee’s dead,’ he said. ‘We think she was killed sometime yesterday afternoon.’

‘Poor cow.’ She scooped the child into her arms and held him tight, kissing his hair. ‘She was as mad as a snake, but she didn’t deserve that.’

‘When did you last see her?’

‘I haven’t seen her for a few days, but I heard her yesterday. Her flat’s above mine and the ceiling’s like cardboard. Usually there wasn’t much noise. The telly, but I have it on most of the time anyway.’ She sat on the sofa with the child still in her arms and watched the children’s presenter pretending to be a lion.

‘But yesterday you heard something,’ he said. ‘People shouting? A row?’

She shook her head. ‘Nothing like that. Music. Could have been on the telly, but very loud. I’d put Alfie down for a nap and I was worried she’d wake him up. I banged on the ceiling with a broom handle and it stopped. She must have gone out then, because I heard her on the steps outside.’

‘But you didn’t see her?’

Jodie looked horrified. ‘Oh my God, you think it was the killer going past the door?’

‘It’s possible,’ Ashworth said. ‘What time was it?’

She shook her head as if time didn’t mean anything to her. ‘I didn’t see anything. I mean, I didn’t look out of the window.’

He left her sitting with her son on the sofa and staring at the television.

Peggy Jamieson was expecting him and knew who he was. Her friend on the ground floor must have phoned her, and anyway by now the neighbouring flat was swarming with people and the blue-and-white tape was across the corridor, blocking her way to the stairs. Ashworth bobbed underneath it, nodded to the PC who was standing guard, and knocked on the door. There was no sign of Vera. Peggy opened the door and immediately started talking. She was short and round, and the stairs must be a trial to her.

‘They never should have put that woman to live there. She couldn’t look after herself.’

Her flat was spotless and it glistened. There was a view from the living-room window over the top of the Coble and to the harbour. Behind the pub a man carried a crate of empties into the yard. Joe let her talk for a while.

‘How long has Dee Robson been there?’