I fumble for an instant, but what I say next comes out strong, because it occurs to me that whatever happens, I am reclaiming myself, reclaiming my own life. My chest loosens a little when I say my real name. ‘Holly Lawrence.’

‘I’m going to ask you one final time to move elsewhere,’ Bad Cop says.

‘Come on now.’ Good Cop gives me another bright smile. ‘We wouldn’t want to have to arrest you.’

I look at the black lamp, high up and to the side of the door. I am in no doubt that it encases a surveillance camera. I make sure my face is in clear view. Up until this point, I have taken care to speak every word as distinctly as I can, certain that whatever I say can be listened to later, if it isn’t already being monitored in real time. It occurs to me there is one final thing to get across. ‘Martin is in Covert Financial Enquiries.’

‘You don’t belong here,’ says Bad Cop.

‘We’re going to escort you onto public space,’ says Good Cop.

I move away with the two police officers, who keep me between them. As soon as we round the corner, Good Cop says, ‘Goodbye.’

I halt as if a ghost has grabbed hold of me.

‘You go on your way then,’ Bad Cop says after a few seconds.

But I seem to have run into an invisible wall, and my mind has emptied.

‘As I was saying to your good self, you need to be out of this area,’ Bad Cop says, clearly thinking that I am not at all good. ‘Now,’ he says. ‘I said to walk on.’

My feet have stopped moving, as if they are telling me they have come so far, and cannot take another step. Somehow, though, as if I am a robot, one foot lifts, and then the other, and I do.

Then
A Misadventure

One year and eleven months earlier

Cornwall, Early May 2017

It wasn’t long before Maxine got a message to me that there were no traces of blood or bodily fluids on the items from Zac’s bag, so it was unlikely they’d been used on Jane or on anyone else. Whenever I thought about those magazines, I was overwhelmed with desolation that the things in those photographs had been done. Over a week had passed since I’d seen them, and the images had rooted in the landscape of my nightmares.