‘I know they’re your keys, sailor boy, and that’s why I’m asking what the hell this is and what the fuck you’re hiding?’

‘I love it when Marcus is so … you know … passionate.’ Seraphine tilted her head towards Bloom as she spoke. Everyone ignored her.

‘It’s a key. I don’t know what for. I don’t know what any of them are for. They were with me in the hospital along with my wallet and my phone.’

Jameson leaned further over the table. He held the smallest key between his thumb and index finger. ‘This is a very specific type of key. The sort normal people don’t have alongside their house keys. It’s for the kind of place you hide something. So what are you hiding?’

‘A safety deposit box?’ said Bloom.

‘Lots of normal people have those these days, Marcus,’ said Seraphine.

When Jameson looked at Seraphine his expression was one of disgust. ‘How would you know what normal people do? And for that matter what exactly are you doing here?’ He turned to Bloom. ‘And why the fuck didn’t you tell me what you were up to? Worried I might disapprove of you colluding with the devil?’

‘Calm down, Marcus.’ Bloom placed her hands flat on the table. ‘I had no intention of colluding with Seraphine. She’s simply here to tell us what she knows and then she’ll be on her way.’

‘Back to hell,’ said Jameson. ‘Well at least that’s something for us all to look forward to.’

Harry watched the whole interaction play out, trying to work out the connections between these people.

‘Maybe I should make myself scarce,’ said Seraphine.

‘Be our guest,’ said Jameson pointing to the door with an outstretched arm.

‘Stay where you are. I haven’t finished with you yet,’ Bloom said.

‘I guarantee she doesn’t know a damn thing, Augusta. She’s playing you,’ said Jameson.

‘How do we find out what box that’s for?’ Harry pointed to the key. Why did he have a safety deposit key? He’d never had cause to use one in his life, so what had he needed to hide in the last few years? Could it be something to do with his divorce? Had he moved money or hidden investments? It seemed unlikely. They were hardly a cash-rich family. Most of his and Caroline’s earnings had been ploughed into their home or their annual holidays. He couldn’t think of anything he had to hide. He looked down at the picture of this Alina Maree. Did this box hold her secrets?

‘We ask you,’ said Jameson.

‘Well, I don’t know,’ said Harry. ‘It must be a recent thing.’

‘Recent being anytime in the last four goddamn years?’

‘Marcus. Enough,’ said Bloom.