‘Do you want to wait in the car?’ he asked her. ‘There’s no reason for us both to hang around here.’

‘That’s extremely kind,’ Hanson said, meaning it, ‘but my pride would never recover.’

McCullough came over a few minutes later to announce that they were packing up, and Hanson sighed with relief.

‘We’ve got blood and soil samples and we’ve taken cuttings of the grass,’ she said.

‘Can you tell how much there was?’ Hanson asked. ‘Like whether it was a serious injury or just, I don’t know, a nose bleed?’

‘It’s not a lot,’ Linda said. ‘A splash only.’

‘And I suppose we don’t even know if it was connected,’ Hanson went on, more quietly.

‘No, we don’t,’ McCullough said, cheerfully. ‘Welcome to my world.’

Lightman and Hanson walked briskly back to the car after that, and Hanson turned the engine on immediately in the hope that it might warm up. She pulled her bag off over her head and felt her phone buzz as she did so. Pulling it out, she saw a message from Jason. It began with the words, I don’t quite know what to say to you …

She opened it up with an unreal feeling. She read his words, feeling as though she was slipping sideways out of the car as she did.

‘Everything all right?’ Lightman asked from beside her after a moment.

And to Hanson’s absolute humiliation, when she tried to answer, nothing but a ragged sob came out.

O’Malley had both a mobile and landline for Dina Weyman and managed to reach her on the latter. The call was originally answered by a disgruntled-sounding man who was presumably Dina’s husband.

‘Why do you want to talk to her?’ he asked, gracelessly, when O’Malley explained who he was.

‘We want to corroborate a story given by a witness,’ O’Malley told him. ‘We’re told your wife can help.’

There were movements on the other end, and a ferocious-sounding muttered conversation followed by the slam of a door. O’Malley wondered whether he’d called in the middle of some sort of domestic.

Eventually, Dina said, ‘Hello?’ in a voice as cheerful and unconcerned as a child’s.

‘Is that Dina Weyman?’

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I understand you’re with the police.’ There was a slight sigh to her voice, as if talking to the police was immeasurably boring.

‘Detective Sergeant O’Malley,’ he told her. ‘I want to ask you about Friday night.’

‘What about it?’ The question could have been rude, but she managed to inject just enough lightness into it to save herself.

‘Niall Reakes tells us that you met up with him at a hotel,’ O’Malley said. ‘We just wanted to confirm the details.’

There was a pause, and Dina said, ‘I’m sorry, Niall said I met up with him?’

‘Yes.’ O’Malley found himself sitting up very straight. ‘On Friday night.’