She pulls out a chair, and slumps into it. ‘I’m sure you can guess,’ she sighs, reaching for the closest bottle of wine and pouring herself a large serving.

Robin sits down slowly. ‘You’re a swingers’ club?’

‘Yes. Although I’m not sure we will be again, after tonight. A rock through the window puts people off.’

‘I’m sure.’ Robin waits as she takes a long swig from her glass. ‘Who wrote the note, Mrs Franklin?’

She looks at him, eyes pleading. ‘Can you just forget you came here tonight?’

‘I’m not sure—’

‘Please?’

Robin taps his fingers on the table, thinking. ‘How old’s your son?’

She looks up quickly, then back to stare at her wine glass. ‘Fifteen,’ she says quietly, turning it round slowly in her hand. ‘I didn’t think he knew.’

‘Where is he tonight?’

‘Supposed to be with his grandparents. Obviously, we don’t have him around when we run the parties.’

‘Obviously,’ Robin repeats, trying hard to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. ‘Listen, I’m in no hurry to arrest a fifteen-year-old for criminal damage or GBH—’

‘GBH?’ she squeaks.

‘He hit a woman with a brick. He could have caused serious harm.’

She looks down again miserably.

‘So how about I take the note, get it processed, and then conveniently forget to follow up on the results?’

Mrs Franklin stares at him. ‘You can do that?’

‘Between you and I, yes. But if he does anything dodgy again, if we find anything, his fingerprints and DNA will pop up and he’ll be done for all of it. Perhaps you could tell him that.’

She nods, miserably. ‘I will.’

‘And maybe put the parties on hold for the time being, eh?’ Robin adds. ‘At least until your son’s at university. And we’ll need you and Emma to come down to the station and give a full statement when you have time. But as I said, if you forget, then maybe my caseload will be too high for me to have time to chase you up.’

Mrs Franklin breathes a long sigh. ‘Emma will appreciate that, too. Her husband… Well, let’s just say he’s not into the scene.’

Robin stands, taking the evidence with him. As he passes, he glances back into the living room where the paramedic is finishing up. He opens the front door, turning to Mrs Franklin.

‘Call me if you change your mind, though?’ Robin says. ‘Sometimes teenagers need the shit scaring out of them.’

‘He’s a good kid, DS Butler.’

‘I’m sure.’

‘And if you ever fancy a night out,’ she adds, ‘we’re always looking for extra men, especially attractive ones like yourself.’

Robin feels his face go red. ‘Thanks,’ he murmurs, after a pause. ‘But I’m not sure the job allows for it.’