‘Would you like to tell us what your relationship is with Indra and Marta?’

‘I don’t have a relationship with Indra. We slept together a couple of times around three months ago. She was wanting company and – how can I put it without sounding like a heartless bastard? – attention. I’d seen her a few times when I visited Mum and she’d made it obvious she liked me. On one occasion, she’d had a row with a local shopkeeper who she thought her husband was . . . Let’s just say she was upset about her husband’s infidelity and either wanted to get even, or was bored. I don’t know, and I didn’t ask.’ He opened a bottle of water and took a large swig. ‘I had no idea she’d got pregnant. She told me she was on the pill. Christ, what a mess.’

‘And her sister?’

‘Yeah. We are . . . not seeing each other yet but . . . ’ He rubbed at the back of his neck while he thought what to say. ‘Oh, hell.’ He slammed his fist down on the table and stared at us both. ‘I don’t know if Marta knows that Indra and I slept together. Have you told her? You really aren’t shitting me about this, are you?’

I shook my head. ‘You can check with the hospital, I’m sure, or with Indra. As for Marta, I don’t know what she knows, I’m afraid.’ I wasn’t about to start moralising. He’d said that he regarded himself as single. ‘What is the situation with Marta?’

‘I really like her. She and I only got together in the last couple of weeks. It might sound sordid, both sisters and all that, but nothing’s happened with Marta and I don’t want it to until all this is over and Indra is back on her feet again.’ He blushed. ‘Marta and I have had a couple of kisses and a bit of flirting. I’m assuming you’ve checked her background? The trafficking and—?’

‘We have.’ Dan’s tone was solemn.

‘I’ve been trying to persuade Marta to go out with me for a couple of months. I didn’t tell her that I’d had a stupid fling with her sister because Marta was always teasing me about being a “lad”, and I was worried that this would be proof and stop Marta and I getting together permanently. What a bloody idiot. I like Indra but not like that. It meant nothing. And now . . . now—’

‘Are you sure Marta doesn’t already know?’

Horror ran over his face. ‘Shit. No. God, I really hope not. I need to go. I need to speak to Indra and find out what she’s told her sister.’ He grabbed up his phone.