I consider again Maxine’s desperation to copy the contents of Zac’s laptop. She must have thought there was evidence of what Zac was doing on it, and perhaps of where Jane and Frederick were. I think also about the micro SD card he dropped in London. I know now that I’d been wrong to assume it contained the films he’d taken of me and other women. It is more likely he was using it to pass on some of Frederick’s data, or at least a code for locating or unlocking it. That would also explain why he was more tense than usual in that London hotel, and why he exploded into drunken violence.

What would have happened if I’d somehow managed to get that micro SD card to Maxine? Would they have arrested Zac then and there? This question hurts so much I can’t swallow. The answer hurts even more. If they had, then everything would have been different. I sniffle. I work hard to make my throat move. What If is too unbearable.

There is a huge What if for Jane, too. What if she hadn’t come out of hiding? The answer is that she would probably still be alive. So why did she risk it? And why now, after six years of perfect invisibility? These are the questions I still can’t answer, but I know it is crucial that I do.

Albert E. Mathieson’s beautiful blonde personal assistant is so shiny smooth and professional I am convinced that she is an aspiring actress playing the role of beautiful blonde personal assistant. She bends over an executive table, adjusting a glass tumbler, a bottle of mineral water, and pens and paper. Behind her is a huge expanse of window. Through it, I can see sparkling blue sea dotted with boats, as if the room extended over the Pacific Ocean.

‘Albert’s on his way.’ She smiles up at the camera, plays with the settings on a tablet to zoom in on the black leather chair where Albert will soon be sitting. ‘Just to reassure you, the video conferencing software I had you download uses end-to-end encryption. Everything you and Albert discuss will be absolutely secure and confidential.’

‘That’s so important these days.’ I say this with real feeling. ‘Thank you.’

‘It’s my pleasure. Here comes Albert. You have a beautiful day now.’

Albert E. Mathieson has the mega-watt smile of a superstar visiting earth from Mount Olympus. He is in his early forties, like Zac, and every move he makes is made with a snap. ‘Hey, Helen,’ he says, snapping on a smile as he snaps open his briefcase. ‘Great to meet you.’

‘Great to meet you too. I’m really curious about what the E stands for.’