‘He’d seen a lot, Trev, from his time in the army.’ She picks up the knitting and pushes one needle next to the other then starts to work, her movements automatic. ‘Twenty years, give or take. Iraq, Germany, Northern Ireland. We went all over the place. But nothing affected him like the death of that family. He even went to see them, to apologise, but they weren’t having any of it.’

‘He did?’

‘Yeah.’ The needles continue their clicking. ‘Took a lot for him to do that. The husband had a long chat with him. And although Trev said they were far away from forgiveness, he felt better.’

‘What about the brother?’ Freya asks. ‘Did he speak to him too?’

‘Yeah.’ The mouth puckers again. ‘Robert something. He was one of yours, in the police, I remember that. Wouldn’t even open the door. Told him to…’ The wife clears her throat. ‘Eff off,’ she finishes quietly.

Sounds like Robin, Freya thinks. ‘I’m sorry I have to ask this,’ she begins. ‘But do you think Trevor was trying to kill himself that night?’

‘What? No!’ The wife looks horrified. ‘Trevor would never have done something like that. Not to me, not to Emily. His life was back on track. We were happy.’

Her fingers work the wool, and two fat teardrops roll down her cheek. Freya hands her a tissue.

‘I’m sorry, but I wanted to be sure,’ she says.

‘He would never. Never,’ the wife replies.

Freya thanks the woman and leaves, climbing back into her car. As she starts the engine of her tiny Fiat 500, she thinks about Georgia Riley’s choice of vehicle. Would she have survived if she’d been driving something bigger? Something more solid? Suddenly, Robin and his massive old Volvo makes sense.

So the wife doesn’t believe he was drinking. But then alcoholics can be secretive, everyone knows that. Still, it feels strange to Freya.

She gets home, makes a cup of tea, and goes back over the files from Trevor Stevens’ death. She thinks about asking to meet Emily, the daughter, but she doesn’t want to raise any more difficult questions. She’s already called the Texaco garage and the kid confirmed they can’t find the old transactions made by the other eyewitnesses, so that’s a no go. The AA sponsor is closed off, too. So that’s it. Although maybe Steph knows more by now.

Freya looks up at the time: 11:34. Respectable enough, even for a Sunday, and she picks up her phone and calls. As she listens to it ring, the thought flashes into her head that maybe Steph Harper is having a lazy lie-in with her boss, and her cheeks flush slightly in response. But before she goes to hang up, the phone’s answered.