Body-worn video is always so jumpy it’s vomit-inducing, and this is no exception. But he can clearly make out Amy Miller’s Audi, then her sitting in the front seat as the cop car pulls up alongside. An exchange of words, and he can see why the policemen decided to breathalyse her. Her eyes flicker from them to the fish and chip shop, and when she goes to get out of the car, she staggers slightly, then ends up leaning on the car door. But the result was clear: she wasn’t even close to the legal limit.

But she’s nervous, that much is obvious. The camera shifts as the police officer turns, looking towards the chippy. Sure enough, there’s a figure standing next to the counter, but the video moves again and the image blurs. Was that Jonathan Miller? Robin rewinds the tape, and squints again. In that fraction of a second it’s impossible to tell.

His phone buzzes, a text message from Steph.

Can you meet me? it reads. 4:30pm? Costa?

He glances at the time. He could, he thinks, but he was late to work this morning as it is.

Can we do tonight? he replies.

I need to talk to you, Steph comes back straight away. It’s important.

What’s so urgent? Robin wonders. Then he feels a flash of guilt. Perhaps she knows about Liv’s visit last night. But how? And nothing happened, he tells himself.

Robin replies, agreeing to meet her, then picks up his coat. He’ll find out soon enough.

When he arrives at the coffee shop, Steph’s face is serious. He can’t have screwed this up so soon, he thinks. Even by his standards, that’s impressive.

She stands up when she sees him, kissing him on the cheek. She’s come from work, dressed in simple black trousers and a blue top. She’s bought him a coffee already, a large mug waiting in front of her.

‘You okay?’ Robin asks.

She looks pale, nervous. She nods. ‘Rob, listen. Something happened this afternoon that I need to tell you about.’

He’s confused. ‘Okay.’

‘But if I tell you, I could lose my job.’

‘So don’t tell me.’ He reaches over and takes her hand. It’s hot and clammy. ‘Steph,’ he says. ‘It’s fine. I know how these things work.’

‘Robin, they’re thinking about reopening the inquest into Trevor Stevens’ death.’

She blurts it out, a rush of words, and they throw him back in his seat, her hand dropping from his. ‘What do you mean?’

‘The coroner spoke to me this morning. He wants me to go through the original PM and pathology reports, review them in the light of new information.’

Robin feels his body grow cold. ‘What new information?’ he asks slowly.