‘Setting fire to a shed in 2009,’ Dan said. ‘Did you know it had animals in it when you torched it?’ He waited for a response.

Artem’s right hand clenched into a fist. ‘What’s that got to do with anything? It was an accident and it was ten years ago.’ He batted his computer mouse away.

I watched his tells. Listened to every word for nuances and implications.

Dan was nodding, as if he was unsure of what to say. I’d seen him play dumb and he was good at it. ‘Arson can be habit-forming. Addictive, even.’

‘I’m not sure what you’re getting at. Are you implying that I set fire to my brother’s shop?’

‘Did you?’

Artem’s eyes blazed. ‘Of course I didn’t. The idea that I’ve become some sort of pyromaniac is absurd.’ He stared at me. ‘Do you agree with this joker, Inspector?’

I switched on the falsest smile I could conjure. ‘As a matter of fact, I do.’

‘What reason would I have for burning down my brother’s business?’

‘You tell us, buddy.’ Dan locked his eyes on Artem’s. ‘Perhaps you want Indra for yourself?’

Artem’s fist came crashing down on the desk. ‘I am not your buddy.’ His head was tilted back in annoyance. He opened a bottle of water which was on his desk; took a few gulps and screwed the top back up.

A beefy security guard had arrived now and Artem oozed relief. ‘Sergei, these two officers are leaving. Kindly escort them off the premises, and make sure they are not shown in again without my authorisation.’

Sergei held out his arm to herd us out of the room.

Dan was still by the desk. ‘You know, you were lucky not to have got a custodial sentence, mate. You would have done in Australia.’

Artem’s face was a picture. Pink and puffed-up with indignation. ‘I said get out. Sergei, get these officers out of my sight.’

‘Don’t forget, we need that list and a statement,’ Dan added, as we were escorted out of Artem’s office. ‘Otherwise, we’ll be back.’

We had hit a few raw nerves.

10.30 a.m.

10.30 a.m.

She woke again, needing the toilet. Her head was still fuzzy. Kind of floaty.

She’d had the dream again. Someone came in while she was asleep, but she couldn’t remember who it was. She tried to get her brain to think but it felt heavy. It hadn’t been Mummy. Mummy would’ve brought her fish-fingers and some juice and Snuggabear. ‘Mummy? I don’t feel well.’

The room gobbled up her words, as though it held a terrible secret.