The photos were a shock all the same. Bee with her arms around Violette Zidane and Eddie Conlon. An expression on her face that Bish hadn’t seen for three years. Pure happiness. Another shot of Bee rolling her eyes while Eddie’s tongue cheekily hovered near her ear, Violette watching on with a half-smile. Then the three of them staring solemnly ahead with eyes so dark and skin so perfectly matched. Another of them laughing. Bee looked gorgeous. They all did.

‘She told me she’d had nothing much to do with Noor LeBrac’s daughter, but that’s definitely her, isn’t it?’ Rachel pointed to Violette.

‘They were forced to be roommates for the entire trip.’

‘Who’s the boy, Bish?’ she asked quietly, and he knew what she was thinking. Beautiful boys with golden skin belonged to Rachel and Bish.

‘Eddie Conlon. He’s the one who’s gone missing with Violette. They’re trying really hard to keep his name out of the papers.’

Bish studied the photos one more time before handing back the phone. ‘Can you email them to me on that thing?’ he asked. ‘I can print them off here.’

Rachel concentrated on the task of sending the photos and he watched her master something he had no idea about.

‘What made you suspicious about the martial arts file?’ he asked.

‘I bumped into her instructor at the supermarket a couple of weeks ago and he asked after her. Told me how disappointed he was when she dropped out back in May.’

Had they become those type of parents? Who didn’t know where their kids were?

‘What could she possibly have been up to on Saturday mornings?’ he asked.

She shrugged. ‘I was going to ask her when she returned from Normandy, but then . . .’ Rachel shrugged.

But then someone blew up their daughter’s bus and it didn’t seem important.

Bish heard a sound at the door and leaned back in his chair to see David Maynard standing in the hallway. Maynard was an unorthodox principal. Every kid at the school had his mobile number. Bee had told Bish the story of his speech to the seniors – not to get into the car of a drunk driver, to ring him instead. Any time of the night. He’d drive them home, no questions asked. The child protection people wouldn’t have been impressed, but the parents were.

‘I rang the doorbell but no one answered,’ Maynard said.

‘It doesn’t always work,’ Rachel said.

Maynard stepped into the kitchen. ‘Are you okay?’ he asked Rachel. ‘What’s going on?’

‘Oh, you know. The usual.’ She was trying to keep her tone light. ‘Bee’s hanging out with terror suspects.’

Maynard seemed tentative, as if waiting for Bish to invite him to sit down. When he didn’t, Maynard stared over Rachel’s shoulder at the photograph on her phone.

‘Bee was friends with Violette Zidane?’ he asked. ‘Who’s the boy?’

‘Eddie Conlon,’ Rachel said. Her phone rang and she went off to answer it, leaving Bish with Maynard. It wasn’t the most pleasant silence, so Bish decided to break it.