Beth sinks her key into the lock. She’d felt better as soon as her feet found concrete and Luna was reattached via her lead. But as she looks at Luna now, her grey belly and the clumps of mud hanging from her too-long curls, her mood dips again. ‘Shit,’ she murmurs under her breath. ‘We really need an outdoor tap.’ She pushes the door open, then reaches down to pick Luna up. But the dog is too fast; she pelts inside and runs across the entrance hall towards the kitchen, leaving smears of muddy footprints along Beth’s light oak parquet floor. ‘Luna, no!’ Beth cries in exasperation, as she watches her once-cute pet spray tiny mud pellets out of the secret pockets of her fluffy coat.

‘Is this a bad time?’

Beth gasps, spins around, her heart lurching towards her mouth.

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.’ DC Stone puts his hands up in apology and takes a step backwards. ‘I thought I’d stop by, to give you an update,’ he adds.

Beth looks at him. He’s wearing jeans and trainers with a logo she doesn’t recognise. He doesn’t have a coat on, just a navy sweatshirt, and she wonders why that is. A way of guaranteeing an invite on this cold and drizzly day? Or did he just leave his coat in the car by mistake?

‘Mind if I come in? It’s freezing out here.’

‘Of course,’ she answers, smiling warmly, belatedly remembering who she is. ‘Give me a second to banish Luna to the garden. As you can see,’ Beth adds, gesturing to the floor as she walks down the hall, ‘she’s in my bad books.’

With Luna locked outside, Beth has no choice but to sit down next to DC Stone and look at him expectantly. She wants to banish him too really, to explain that she’s not part of his world, not anymore, but of course she can’t do that. ‘How’s the case going?’ she asks instead. ‘Have you found a next of kin?’

‘Yeah, the deceased was on the system, been inside a few times over the years. His name’s Jon Smith so it’s lucky he was, to be honest. We checked the prison logbook and there’s a sister; she came up from Plymouth to identify the body on Saturday.’

Beth can suddenly see the dead man’s face, his blotchy red skin and rough beard. She wonders if his sister still loved him, despite what he’d become. She wants to take a sip of water, to hide behind her bottle for a moment, but she’s worried DC Stone will notice her shaking hands. ‘That’s good,’ she mumbles. ‘That he has someone to take care of things.’