She snorted contemptuously and her eyes narrowed a fraction. ‘That’s a completely different question. Lots of people. Simas was a piece of shit but love is blind – and my sister has always loved him.’

‘“Piece of shit” in what sense?’

She did an unzipping gesture at the level of the flies on her jeans, and I felt my heart sink.

‘Do you know who the woman in the fire is?’

She opened her hands wide. ‘Could be anyone. If he burnt in that place, it’s what that bastard deserved.’

‘Has he been unfaithful to your sister before?’

Disgust forced air out of Marta’s mouth. ‘Many times. She should have left him but it’s not easy when you’re from a country like ours. This shop, and the baby, were supposed to be their “new start”.’ She made a quotation mark gesture with her fingers as though she never believed it was going to happen, and they were empty words.

‘We have some photographs of the bodies in the fire. Could you look at them for me, please? I’m afraid they aren’t pleasant, or particularly good quality, but until we can see Artem, or persuade Indra to look at them, you’re the best person to identify them.’ On my phone, I brought up a cropped image of the man lying cupped round another person, and showed it to her. ‘Is this your brother-in-law?’

‘Jėzus Kristus.’ She turned away, doubling over, her hand over her mouth in revulsion. ‘Tai virsta.’ She staggered away from me. ‘Yes, that’s him. That bastard. I’m glad he’s dead. Except my sister will continue to suffer because of him.’ She lurched and stumbled around the lobby area and beat her fist on the lift door several times, muttering agitatedly in Lithuanian.

‘Marta, are you certain that’s Simas in the image?’

She spun round. ‘Yes. I recognise the stud in his ear and the watch. Indra gave them to him for Christmas. Spent far more on him than he was worth.’ She took her phone from her jeans pocket and swiped it into life. ‘Here. Look. This was at Christmas.’ She scrolled through the images and showed me a photo of Indra and Simas around a table, plates loaded with food. Crackers and wrapping littered the tablecloth. They both wore paper hats, and he had his arm round his wife’s shoulders. The watch was clearly visible. She scrolled to another image, one that showed Simas’ face and ear. ‘See. It’s white gold with a diamond.’

‘Are those images date stamped?’

‘Yes. Look.’ Beneath the images, location, time and date were shown.

‘Could I get copies of them, please?’

‘If you’ll let my sister have a bit of time to come to terms with losing everything before you show her these.’ There was an edge to her voice, as though she was used to having to negotiate.