‘No problem.’ I hear a door close in the background. Then he’s back on the phone. ‘You know the drill?’

‘I do.’

‘Good. Whatever you say, say nothing.’

He arrives in time for a late-morning coffee in the tiny, windowless room assigned to interviewees. In the meantime, photographed and fingerprinted, I’ve been watching the custody sergeant going through my records. Arrested by Dorset Police, the year before last. Detained and questioned by one of the Devon and Cornwall Major Crime Investigation Teams only a handful of months ago.

‘You’re giving showbiz a bad name.’ Tony waits for the door to shut behind him, and then settles at the desk. ‘Murder, is it? Or some other Class-A rap?’

‘I’ve no idea. They haven’t arrested me, so that might be a clue, but I don’t trust these people.’

‘Very wise.’ Tony produces a yellow legal pad, and I give him a full account of events to date. Finally he looks up. ‘They’ll think you’re close, you and …’ He gestures at the pad, ‘… this McFaul. That’s the first thing that pops into their little heads.’

‘Close as in good friends?’

‘Close as in shagging. Have you, as a matter of interest?’

‘Christ, no. The man was in love. That’s the whole point.’

‘And he’s done a runner?’

‘That’s what they’re saying.’

‘So do you know where he’s gone?’

‘No idea.’

‘Good. So why are you their first point of call?’

‘You tell me. They may have kicked in every door in Budleigh. They may have arrested poor Evelyn. These people are out of control. The DI is the one we have to watch. He’s a lay preacher. Brett thinks that’s significant.’

‘Brett?’

‘The young one. His sidekick.’

‘You know him? This Brett?’

‘I do.’ I explain about the pub fight in Exmouth, and Brett ending up in hospital. On that occasion I didn’t call on Tony’s services, largely because I’d become a key witness. Now, though, is different. Now, as I’m trying to explain, I get the feeling that I’ve become the target of some malevolent force. First McFaul, then little me.

‘The woman was under sentence of death,’ I tell Tony. ‘She had MND. She did away with herself. That’s all anyone needs to know.’

‘A body would be helpful.’

‘That’s what they say, the police, Bullivant, Brett. People are allowed to disappear …’ I’m frowning now. ‘Aren’t they?’

‘Tricky question. Our CID friends like to tidy up. People going missing offends their sense of neatness. It probably sounds anal but sometimes it turns out they have a point. Our first job is getting you out of here in one piece. They’re pushing for two interviews. The first will relate to McFaul. You won’t be under caution. My advice is to answer their questions unless I advise otherwise. Can you live with that?’