‘Yes. I’m almost sure he said sorry. And I reached up to touch his face, and I wanted to tell him how beautiful he was, but my fingers seemed to go right through him, as if he wasn’t there at all, just like a hologram or something. And that’s the end of that. The next thing I remember was waking up in here.’

‘Thank you, Will,’ said the blond cop. ‘That’s enough for now.’

‘What’s going to happen?’ asked Isabelle.

‘We’re going to have another little chat with Joel.’

‘Send him my best,’ said Will. ‘I do hope he didn’t try to murder me. I’m really quite fond of him.’

They had just finished dinner, and were about to do a spot of Rodean casework, when Andy turned up unannounced. John answered the door; Christine was in the kitchen clearing up.

‘Hi Andy. Long time no see.’

‘Hello, John.’ They shook.

‘I’m just leaving, actually. We’ve been burning the midnight oil.’

‘So I see,’ said Andy, surveying the empty wine bottle, the remains of the meal. ‘Well, good to see you.’

‘Don’t rush off,’ said Christine, stabbing the corkscrew into another cork. ‘Have another drink.’

‘No, really, I don’t think I’d better. Busy day tomorrow. Can’t have a hangover.’

‘Okay. Well, thanks for everything, John.’

‘My pleasure.’ He put his coat on. ‘We’ll get there in the end, Christine.’

‘I do hope so.’

They kissed in the hallway, and he was gone.

‘Get where, exactly?’ asked Andy, when she was pouring the wine. ‘You and John. What’s all that about?’

‘Big case, you know,’ said Christine. ‘All very messy and complicated.’

‘It looks it.’

‘So,’ said Christine, handing him a glass. ‘To what do I owe the pleasure?’

‘Well, if Mohammed won’t come to the mountain . . . Cheers.’

‘Cheers.’

‘I was beginning to wonder if you ever wanted to see me again.’ He had a wounded note in his voice, hoping this would arouse her pity.

‘Funny that,’ said Christine. ‘I was beginning to wonder exactly the same thing.’

‘I’ll always care about you, Chris. You know that.’

‘That’s not what I meant, really.’ She took a big swig of wine. ‘It was more a question of whether I ever wanted to see you again.’

‘Well, here I am. How does it feel?’ He leaned towards her, took her hand. She withdrew it.

‘It’s funny,’ said Christine, gently withdrawing. ‘Now that it comes to it, I don’t have anything to say.’

‘Good. We’ve talked enough. How about you and me . . .’

‘Although I suppose there is just one thing.’

‘Yeah?’ His voice was deep and thick. ‘Say it.’

‘Get out.’

His face froze for a moment in that expression of lustful charm she knew so well, and then the brows contracted.

‘I beg your pardon?’