‘How are you so thin?’

He put her coat over her shoulders as she struggled to get up holding the massive carton.

‘Stress,’ she replied. ‘And the lack of an intimate relationship. Being single means I don’t have to go through the ups and downs of arguments that lead to unhappiness eating, post-row eating, pre-separation eating, reunification eating. These days my life’s very simple. Microwave meals or anything from the deli counter, seven days a week. No man means no snacking. My body is a temple.’

‘But what’s the point if there’s no one worshipping there?’

‘Ha ha!’ Ava poked him in the ribs.

One viewer, sat alone, not the least bit interested in classic movies, turned away from the screen to watch them go.

They exited onto the street. The cinema in York Place was only a five-minute walk from Callanach’s apartment and they wandered slowly across Picardy Place roundabout with Ava waving nonchalantly at the cars that beeped them.

‘Have you been stealing cocaine from the evidence room?’ Callanach watched her drift casually along the pavement.

‘Not yet, but it’s an option. I never thought I’d walk into a crime scene where a man had had his penis jammed into a toaster and been electrocuted through it. It’s like we’re in the twilight zone. It’s almost Shakespearean in its drama. The Fenella Hawksmith scene was bad enough, the whole slow death set-up and the violation with the knife. It’s all so bizarre, it doesn’t seem real. And we’re nowhere with it.’

‘We’ve had tough cases before. What’s really bothering you about this one?’

Ava stopped, threw her popcorn untouched into a nearby bin and planted her hands on her hips, middle of the pavement, causing several less than sober men singing loudly in bad Italian to find a path around her.

‘That,’ she pointed after them. ‘I don’t know if they’re friends, or brothers, or members of a football team, but they’re connected. Usually we have to avoid family members knocking down our door to demand answers, a prosecution, justice. If not the families then the press is there waiting on every new clue, ratcheting up the tension, stirring public emotion. And yay for us, we’ve kept the crazy down to a reasonable level this time. The media has yet to link the Hawksmith case with Osaki Shozo, but the cynic in me wonders if they’ll be all that bothered.