I have an impression that he wipes away all emotion from his face as if he were erasing a chalkboard with one swipe. His voice goes flat, where before it was expressive. ‘I work with information systems.’

‘Tell me more.’ As soon as the words are out, I remember Maxine using them against me.

He manages a half-smile. ‘It’s boring.’

‘Is it cyber-security?’

‘You could call it that.’

‘Who do you work for?’

‘The civil service.’

‘Ah. You said.’ Of course you did. ‘Can you find stuff out? Find people?’

He taps his mouth with his index finger. ‘Sometimes.’

Workout finished. Congratulations. My treadmill slows, comes to a stop, but the world around me seems to be moving, still, in a funny kind of near-vertigo.

I climb off the treadmill and sling my bag over my shoulder. ‘Can I ask you a favour?’

He raises an eyebrow. ‘I’m intrigued.’

Push, push, push. Test, test, test. What will you do, George? What will you reveal?

‘There’s someone I need information about,’ I say.

‘Mysterious.’ He brings two fingers to his chin. There is more tapping.

‘Exactly. Because I can’t find much.’

‘“Curiouser and curiouser.” Who?’

I reach into my bag for a pen and paper and sketch a bare-bones version of Jane’s family tree. I circle her brother’s name and point. ‘Him.’ I hold the paper in front of George.

He stops his treadmill for a second time, then jumps off and leans against the machine, his arms crossed. ‘Why does he matter to you?’

Because I want to know why Maxine and Martin were talking about him the day Jane was killed.

I don’t answer this direct question of his. I say, ‘I put the other names and details there to help search – for connections to him, maybe, or to narrow down any results. He’s American.’

George’s voice is gentle, verging on teasing, but what he says is not. ‘To do something like this I need to know more. You’re going to have to tell me why he matters.’

‘I’ve never met him. I won’t understand why I need to know about him until I know it. Does that make sense?’

‘It actually does, yes.’

I have estimated Frederick Veliko’s age, guessing that he’d be a few years younger than Jane. ‘He’s probably in his early to mid-thirties, but he’s nowhere on social media. I’m not an expert at Internet searches, but I’ve tried everything a non-specialist can think of.’

‘Let’s see.’ He takes the paper and studies the family tree. ‘Frederick Veliko.’ He looks hard at me. ‘Unusual surname.’

‘I suppose it is. I hadn’t thought until you said.’

‘So his sister’s dead, according to your chart and dates. Very recently dead. Sad.’ He doesn’t sound surprised.

‘Yes.’

‘She must have been young.’

‘Yes.’ I watch him carefully.

‘Different surname.’ His face is again a blank.