‘He gave me the details for the other people that were there that night. And, do you know, I went to see them and they remembered that day. The accident had cemented it in their minds. And they remembered you.’

She points a shaking finger at Butler. ‘I showed them your photo, and they said you were there. You spoke to the dead guy.’ The detective shakes his head slowly. ‘And Liv told me how Stevens had given up drinking. How he never drank Jack Daniel’s. And I put two and two together.’

‘So what?’ Butler growls. ‘That doesn’t prove shit.’

Amy sips her drink slowly, enjoying holding the detectives in her power. ‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ she says sweetly. ‘Did you assume there was only one copy of the CCTV?’

She sees their faces change in surprise and laughs. ‘I said you’d lost it. And did they have a spare?’ Her vision feels hazy and she blinks, trying to focus her eyes. ‘The old man said no, but I got the impression his grandkid knew differently. I went back later.’ She winks at Freya. ‘Amazing how resourceful a nineteen-year-old can be with the prospect of a blow job.’

She sees the repulsion on West’s face; she hates these detectives. She’ll enjoy destroying their careers, watching Butler go to prison.

She feels herself sway slightly and leans back on the sofa, finishing the last of the whisky. She lets the glass drop to the carpet. ‘I’ll raise a complaint, another complaint,’ she continues. She smiles, but her mouth feels dopey; it’s hard to get the words out. ‘…to the police commission,’ she manages, ‘give them the CCTV, and they’ll investigate. They’ll pull your medical records, they’ll follow up. And your life will be over, DS Butler.’

Amy raises a hand to point at them, but her limbs won’t obey. Her brain feels muddled. All she wants to do is sleep, her eyelids heavy.

She looks down to the whisky glass, then slowly back to Freya.

‘What have you done?’ she slurs. ‘What did you do to me?’

‘No more than you deserve,’ West says.

Then her eyes close and everything goes dark.