I hold her gaze, trying to decide whether the anger is genuine, and I realize the answer has to be yes because she lacks the talent to fake it.

‘There’s something else,’ I say softly. ‘There’s CCTV on that dock. Perfect field of view. Everything covered.’

‘Shit.’ She briefly turns away. ‘And you’ve seen it? Seen the footage?’

‘I have.’ I’m lying, but it feels right.

‘How?’

I shake my head.

‘Then you are a fucking cop.’

‘Au contraire.’ I fake a smile. ‘Ways and means. Better me than them.’

She nods. Her next question is obvious. To both of us.

‘So what did you see? What did it tell you?’

‘Nothing. You were never there. Not the car. Not you. Not Andy. And certainly not Christianne.’

She nods. She’s biting her lip.

‘You’re denying it?’

‘No.’

‘So, you made it up? The whole thing? Driving over? The pair of them pissed? The darkness? The tide?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why?’

She holds my gaze for a long moment. The anger appears to have gone.

‘We thought you didn’t believe him.’

‘Andy?’

‘Yes. You said you believed him but we assumed you were thinking what the cops are thinking. Big fucking search. No trace of a body. Therefore, he must have done something terrible.’

‘And did he?’

‘No way. God’s truth.’

‘So you did it for him? Lied for his sake? Is that it?’

‘Of course. That’s what he needs, what he deserves. Protection.’

I nod. I can see the logic. Just.

‘And this “we” you keep using? Who’s we?’

The question hangs in the air. I can tell she doesn’t want to answer it, not here, probably not ever, but I ask her a second time, and then a third.

‘All of us,’ she says at last. ‘Around that table.’

I leave the public hall minutes later. Beth does her best to pretend that nothing’s changed between us but we both know that’s not true. I’ve no idea what really happened to Christianne, and that degree of ignorance – or perhaps bewilderment – is hard to accept, but my thoughts are with McFaul. I’ve absolutely no doubts about his courage in the minefields, and the fierceness of his commitment to Christianne, but just now he’s slipped his moorings. Beth, to her credit, has found le mot juste. He needs protecting.