Her expression changed immediately, lines of worry appearing on her brow.

‘What is it? Have you heard from him?’

‘I was going to ask you the same question.’

She shook her head.

‘The police say he’s a missing person.’

‘Could I come in and talk to you for a minute, Mrs Delaney?’

‘No, I don’t think so.’

Maybe the idea that Ben’s been hiding out here isn’t so crazy.

‘Just for a moment?’ I said, keeping eye contact.

‘Who are you?’ Her soft Sunderland accent was tight with tension. I was about to tell her my real name but instinct told me not to. A colleague’s name came to mind.

‘My name’s Sam King.’ I put my hand out to shake but she didn’t take it. ‘One of Ben’s poker friends from London.’

She studied me for a moment, her eyes on my face. I realised she was looking at the bruises from last night’s beating. The dogs continued to paw at the door, half whining, half growling, one trying to climb over the other as their blunt claws clicked and scraped down the doorframe.

I added: ‘I was wondering whether you’d –’

‘Maisy! Billy!’ Mrs Delaney spoke sharply to the two terriers, ignoring me. ‘Go to your bed. Go on now!’

The two dogs whimpered but trotted off obediently down the hall, tails down, claws clicking on the wooden parquet flooring. She returned her gaze to me, more inquisitive now.

‘How did you get my address?’

‘Beth gave it to me.’

‘My daughter-in-law?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why?’

‘I’ve been worried about Ben,’ I said. ‘We all are. Trying to find out whether he’s OK. I’m at a conference in Sunderland this weekend and I’ve been going to a few of his favourite places to see if anyone’s seen him.’

Her eyes narrowed.

‘You’ve come all the way from London to do that?’

‘I was here anyway, thought I’d try to help. Have you heard from him recently?’

‘Not this week. But I told everything to the policeman who came round on Tuesday.’

‘Is he here?’

‘Of course not. Why would he be here?’

There was the tension in her voice again. Her anxiety was palpable – but was it the despair of having lost her son, or the strain of lying to protect him?

‘Has he been here at all this week?’ I said.

She ignored the question, indicating my bruises with a slender index finger.

‘What happened to your face?’

‘Last night I was at a casino in town looking for Ben. The bouncers took exception to me asking questions.’

‘Clearly. What do you know about my son?’

‘Could we talk inside for a couple of minutes?’

She crossed her arms and her voice took on a harder edge.