The next day they called Saquib Baheev to the stand. I sat in the public gallery, thanking God for the small mercy of Kate’s mother not being here today, of her reproachful gaze. I listened as Saquib insisted he’d only done what he had been told, according to him: meeting people, couriering, driving for the Kattans. It all sounded very respectable at first.

‘I’m not trying to say I’m blameless, yeah? But I was just a soldier, right? Nadif, he was the man. I did do a bit of heavy stuff for him, for my sins.’

I sat up, alert suddenly. Trying but failing to win the jury over, Saquib blamed the entire thing on a man called Nadif Mosa: he was the mastermind, apparently.

‘The boss’s daughter’s boyfriend. He infiltrated the family through poor Maya.’ Saquib tried an eyebrow-raise that meant Women, eh? ‘Well clever, that one. Fooled us all.’

Nadif. Maya’s boyfriend, who had died. The man I’d seen Saquib smash down in the gravel. He was obviously lying.

‘And what happened to Nadif Mosa, Mr Baheev?’

Baheev made another ill-judged attempt at conspiracy with the jury. He was not an attractive proposition right now, sweating and nervous, a false smile like a tic that he kept flashing at them in some kind of delusional hope. They stared blankly at him.

‘Let’s just say it ain’t wise to get high on your own supply. Know what I’m saying?’

‘Meaning?’ The barrister was brusque.

‘Meaning he majorly overdosed, yeah?’

This was borne out by a written statement from the coroner, and the court was adjourned for lunch before Baheev was questioned about James. I thought I’d better tell Ruth what I knew about Nadif, but she was nowhere to be found. I felt really shaky today; my appetite was shot and I’d hardly slept. Facts that made no sense pursued one another relentlessly round my head. I wished desperately that Danny were here; I wished desperately that I could stop thinking of him. He wouldn’t be the answer, I had to remember that.

Outside in the street, I leaned on the railing, glancing down the road. A group of barristers checked their BlackBerrys and smoked by the revolving doors, their robes flapping out behind them like clipped crows’ wings. Beyond them, a woman was on the phone beneath an elm tree. I looked again as she put her hand up for a black cab.

‘Excuse me.’ I began to walk towards her.

She was getting in the cab now, still on the phone.

‘Wait.’ I was hurrying now. ‘Please, wait …’ But too late. The cab was pulling off now into the busy lunch-time traffic.

I was sure it was Maya Kattan.

Slowly I walked back to the Old Bailey. Ruth was waiting for me outside the courtroom. She looked slightly feverish.

‘Something’s happened.’ She took my arm. ‘They’re adjourning the trial.’

‘What? Why?’