‘Not exactly?’ Thistle says. She manages to sound curious rather than eager. ‘Tell us what you did see.’

‘I wasn’t spying,’ McLean says. ‘I was just washing the dishes. But I looked out the window, and saw Daniel get into a car.’

‘What kind of car?’

‘I think it was blue, maybe? Dark, anyway.’

‘What brand?’

He looks apologetic. ‘I’m not really a car guy, you know?’

‘Expensive? Cheap?’

‘Uh, mid-range, I guess. But I saw the driver, kind of. Through the windshield.’

‘What did she look like?’ I ask.

‘Blonde hair. Red lipstick. Nice jawline, no double chin. She looked older than him—thirty, or maybe a good-looking forty.’

He might not be a car guy, but he’s definitely a woman guy.

‘I thought that was a good sign,’ he said. ‘Maybe she would be willing to date a chubby guy, because she was a bit past her sell-by.’

Thistle chokes on something, and coughs.

‘You okay?’ McLean asks.

She waves away his concern with a hand.

‘The woman used the app,’ I say, ‘so you can tell us who she was?’

‘I can’t,’ McLean says. ‘But the company can, if you get a court order.’

‘How was Daniel’s demeanour?’ I ask. ‘When he got in the car.’

McLean shrugs. ‘Normal, I guess. Like he was meeting her for the first time. They didn’t kiss or anything.’

Thistle has recovered. ‘You see which way they went?’

McLean shakes his head.

‘What kind of porn did Daniel like?’ I ask.

McLean looks taken aback. ‘Excuse me?’

‘You guys have been roommates for years,’ I say. ‘You must know what he’s into.’

McLean looks at Thistle. Now he’s worried about offending her.

‘We’ve heard it all before,’ she says. ‘It would have to be pretty weird to shock us.’

‘Well,’ McLean says, still uneasy, ‘we never really discussed it. I guess just the normal stuff?’

‘Normal?’ I ask.

He looks even more uncomfortable. ‘You know. Blowjobs and anal, and … look, I don’t even know. We didn’t talk about it.’

‘So,’ I say, ‘if I mentioned giants …’

‘Like, uh, giant cocks?’

‘Giant women. That wouldn’t ring any bells for you?’

He just looks confused. ‘What? No! He was a sweet guy, like I said. He wasn’t even dating for the sex. He just wanted someone to love him.’ He stares through the glass at the army of coders, refining the app. ‘Everyone needs that.’

‘You know, Danny isn’t the only one missing,’ Thistle says.

‘What do you mean?’

‘There are fifteen others who match his physical description.’

He stares at us, puzzled.

‘Sixteen men in total,’ I put in. ‘All white, heterosexual, carrying a few extra pounds—and users of your app.’

McLean is starting to go pale. ‘Wait. You’re talking about a killer? Using nTangle?’

I lean forwards in my chair. ‘And you lived with one of the victims,’ I say.