Michel’s eyes became wet and his voice started breaking up as he went on, reliving the moment. ‘By the time I reached her place, the street was full of flics. I watched from a distance. I knew something terrible must have happened. I was about to call her number to ask if she was okay, but just then an ambulance arrived. Then … then I saw them bringing her down and loading her into the ambulance. I mean, I just knew it was her. She was covered under a sheet. I almost died myself. I turned and ran and didn’t stop running. I can’t even remember how I got back to Saint-Denis. I just felt numb, like it was all a dream. Next thing I was at the Geronimo, wanting to drink myself into a hole that’s so deep I never come out. But I don’t even have the money to do it.’

Michel broke down and his body heaved and rocked as he wept bitterly. Ben let him cry for a minute, then asked, ‘Why didn’t you stay and tell the police what you knew?’

‘Because I was scared they’d start asking all these questions, and next thing my criminal record would come out. Wouldn’t take much for them to start suspecting me, would it? As you can tell, seeing as they apparently already think I did it.’ Michel stared at his hands, which were shaking. Then made a fist and punched himself in the face, again and again, as though he hated himself as much as he hated the man who had murdered her. ‘Why? Why couldn’t I have got there sooner? Why couldn’t I have saved her?’

Ben thought Michel was going to break his own nose. He grasped his wrist and held it tight to stop him from hitting himself. ‘We can’t always save the ones we love, Michel. That’s just how it is.’

‘I don’t understand why she didn’t call the police after she called me.’

‘She’d dropped her phone, remember?’ Ben said. ‘Even if she’d realised before she reached home, she was too scared to do anything except keep running until she got there. Then she probably needed something to settle her nerves. She’d put on some coffee. She might have been planning on calling the police on her landline phone after she’d drunk a cup or two. Only she never had the chance, because Nazim al-Kassar got to her first.’

‘But she must have locked her door. How did he get in?’

‘Maybe she answered it thinking it was you,’ Ben said. He regretted the words the moment they were out of his mouth.

Michel sank his head into his hands. ‘Oh, God.’

‘You wouldn’t have stood a chance against him, Michel. You’d be dead too.’

‘I wish I was.’