Nicola sipped her tea and muttered to herself. ‘I’m finding this all rather upsetting. Fires. The internet. Flash mobs. None of them sound like the Patrick I knew, but he may have changed when he was homeless. Perhaps he used the internet for drugs? When we saw him, I didn’t think he had changed fundamentally. He was always a decent person. But I did notice edges, little things. You know? He was less trusting, a bit more defensive, always watching over his shoulder. I don’t think you can go through addiction, psychiatric hospital, homelessness and going cold turkey without it having a permanent effect on you. But he always was a bit of a revolutionary.’ She passed Dan a mug and he caught the sorrow in her eyes. ‘If he didn’t think something was right, he would say so. He told me once that when he was on the streets, he saw a load of things which really upset him, and had wanted to step in, but he’d had to pretend he hadn’t seen them, to avoid having the shit kicked out of him.’ Her gaze was lowered now and her voice was a whisper. ‘I can’t imagine how hard he must’ve found that.’

Maya, 11.15 a.m.

Maya, 11.15 a.m.

‘If your death wasn’t connected to the arson, why would the murderer cut your tongue out, tie a mask over your mouth and pour petrol over you?’ I was muttering to myself in front of the boards. ‘And why leave you there?’

In the most recent photograph, Ryan was at the Old Manor House site in his hard hat and fluorescent jacket, surrounded by cranes and digging equipment, and fully focussed on the labourers he was briefing. His posture was confident, and his face had a warmth which suggested pride and trust. In the next image, Ryan was sitting on the sofa with Nicola, head thrown back in laughter while he tickled his daughter, Amanda. The third showed Ryan on the streets, dirt-clumped hair, greyed-out features and greasy clothes.

‘I’ve heard of talking to yourself but having a chat with the dead is in another league.’ Jackie handed me a doughnut in a paper bag, and gave me a knowing smile. ‘How’s it going?’

‘It looks like Ryan knew Kenny Hayes and his brother.’ I bit into the sugary dough.

‘We’ve all been convinced Hayes is involved in this investigation somehow.’

‘What I’m struggling to understand is what his motivation could be.’ I stuffed another piece of doughnut in my mouth. ‘Instinct tells me it’s likely to be money—’

‘It’s always money with him. It’s all he cares about.’