‘You have to be kidding.’ Brett is looking pained. ‘I’m here because you’ve got something to tell me. If I thought this was a fishing expedition, I’d never have come.’

This is a reprimand, and we both know it. Back in the summer, circumstances may have made us friends, but just now we’re in a very different place. There’s a protocol here, a quiet little game of give and take, but I have to remember the rules.

‘You rely on cameras a lot,’ I mutter. ‘CCTV. Am I right?’

‘Yeah. Right place, right time … yeah.’

‘So, what would happen if I could prove that Christianne killed herself?’

‘How?’

‘By drowning. By throwing herself in.’

‘Budleigh beach, you mean?’

‘No, somewhere else.’

‘Somewhere else?’ The thought appears to appal him. All those wasted hours for the search teams. All that overtime. ‘What are you telling me here?’

‘I’m telling you she did what she said she’d do. Except not quite where we thought.’

‘And McFaul knew that?’

‘Maybe. Maybe not. But let’s pretend he did.’

‘Then we’d have him. Stone bonker. Perverting the course of justice. Wasting police time. You’re aware of the bills we’ve been running up here? A chopper? The lifeboat? The rest of the circus? A search like that doesn’t come cheap, believe me.’

‘But at least he didn’t kill her. Doesn’t that matter?’

‘Of course it does, but it means the bloke’s been dicking us around and, believe me, that’s nearly as bad. Laying false trails? Hiding what he knew to be true? I’ll check if you like, but last time I looked the phrase was criminal intent.’

I nod, realizing already that I’ve just walked into a trap of my own making. En route to the car park, I made a detour to the dock to check for CCTV. One camera, mounted on a pole on the dock, seemed to offer the view that mattered. But the moment I head Brett in that direction is the moment I land McFaul in serious trouble. Perverting the course of justice is a phrase I’ve come across before, and given circumstances like these, I suspect he could be looking at a lengthy prison sentence.

‘Fine.’ I’m reaching for the door handle. ‘Just wanted to check.’

‘And that’s it? You’re going?’

‘Yes.’

‘But you were serious? About McFaul?’

‘No.’ I give him a brief peck on the cheek. ‘I get in a bit of a muddle sometimes. Let’s pretend this never happened.’ I’m halfway out of the car when I have another thought. Rosa has been on to me again. She’s getting impatient. She badly needs word about Pavel’s missing masterpiece. ‘That MacBook of mine you seized,’ I say. ‘When can I have it back?’

Brett studies me a moment. Then he smiles, and reaches for the ignition key.