‘Who is that?’ I gestured to the ambulance. ‘Who’s dead?’

‘Maya’s boyfriend, Nadif.’

‘Oh God,’ I said, but felt a surge of inexplicable relief. ‘Boyfriend? The one her father called a “heart-breaker”?’

‘When was that?’ Danny Callendar looked down at me.

‘The other night,’ I said. ‘He said she’d gone walkabout because she was miserable.’

‘I see.’ He was harder to read than Proust, this man. ‘Like I said, not a happy family.’

‘Was he –’ I touched the welts on my neck unconsciously –’Was it the man from the other day? The black guy?’

‘Yeah, the Somalian. I wouldn’t be too sad,’ Danny said coldly, and fear licked me again. ‘He was bad news all round.’

‘How did he die?’ I began to ask, and then Maya’s car tore round the corner, skidding on the gravel, heading towards the fountain in the middle of the circular lawn.

‘Christ, she’s going to hit it!’ I gasped, but Maya righted the wheel just in time, the back end of her Porsche swinging across the grass, tyres churning up the immaculate turf before she accelerated down the drive. A sleek black vehicle rounded the bend now, a Mercedes, heading straight towards her.

The cars were going to meet head-on.

I closed my eyes and waited for the crash – but it never came. The Porsche was almost in the hedge as Maya threw herself out of the vehicle.

‘You murderer,’ she screamed. ‘You fucking murderer. You will stop at nothing, will you?’ She kicked the tyre of the now stationary Mercedes with a bare foot, over and over again. She kicked it like a woman possessed.

Hadi Kattan stepped out of the car. ‘Maya,’ he said, extending his arms towards her. ‘Please, Maya. I’m so sorry.’

‘Get the fuck away from me,’ she screamed. Blood was streaming down her foot. ‘I never want to see you again,’ and she stood very close to her father and stared at him. ‘You just couldn’t let me have my happiness, could you?’

‘Maya lal,’ he implored. ‘Don’t.’

He said something in Arabic. She considered him for a short moment and then she spat right in his face.

For a moment I thought he might hit her, but his arms remained by his side. Maya glared at him and then she turned and ran back to the Porsche. The gravel spun and flicked behind her, making the horses in the stable whinny in terror, and then she was gone.

‘Callendar,’ Kattan called. His tone was flat and hard as steel as he wiped the spittle off with a white handkerchief. ‘Take the car up to the house. Now.’

Deftly Danny caught the key Kattan threw at him and then he went to obey.