Twenty-five minutes of painful London traffic pass slowly until Archer parks across the street from Jamie’s office, which is a converted Edwardian house in Farringdon. The blinds are closed on all the floors; however, she can see a light shining through the slits on the first floor.

She presses the office intercom button.

No response.

She presses it again holding it for longer this time.

The speaker fizzes and a haughty voice answers, ‘We’re closed for the day!’ It’s the unmistakable voice of Victoria Dunmore-Watson.

‘Miss Dunmore-Watson, it’s Detective Inspector Archer. I need to speak to Jamie. Please can you let me in.’

‘He’s not here. You of all people should know that.’

‘Please open the door.’

The door is buzzed open and Archer enters. There are two doors at the top of a grand staircase. One opens and Victoria Dunmore-Watson’s willowy frame appears briefly in the shadow, and then disappears. Archer climbs the stairs, glances at the other door and wonders what is behind it.

She enters the office.

Jamie’s assistant stands with her arms folded; she is wearing the same clothes she wore on television that morning.

Archer’s eyes scan the interior. There are two desks in the room facing each other in the bay window. The walls are lined with modern filing cabinets and bookshelves. There is a partitioned office that she assumes is Jamie’s.

Archer skips the pleasantries.

‘Have you spoken to him?’

‘What if I have?’

‘Miss Dunmore-Watson, please answer the question.’

‘Maybe.’

‘When did you talk to him?’

She hesitates before answering. ‘This morning.’

‘When this morning?’

‘A couple of hours ago.’

‘What did he say?’

‘He was checking out of the hospital. He sounded very tired and stressed and said he needed some time to himself, to rest and recharge.’

‘Is he upstairs?’

‘Upstairs?’ she replies, affecting a confused expression.

Archer fights the urge to swear and roll her eyes. What is wrong with people today? Why is everyone being so bloody obtuse?

‘In the flat upstairs, Miss Dunmore-Watson. Is Jamie in his flat upstairs?’ she snaps.

The woman flinches at Archer’s tone. ‘No . . . I don’t think so. If he was I’d have heard him walking about.’

‘Do you have access to the flat?’

Dunmore-Watson looks unsure.

‘Jamie left the hospital without a police escort. He could be in great danger. I’ll ask again. Do you have access to the flat?’

Her expression pales and she rubs her thin bony hands together. She walks to her desk, opens the top drawer, takes out a key and hands it to Archer.

‘Have you heard any noise up there today?’

She shakes her head.

‘Stay here, please.’

Archer leaves the office and climbs the stairs to Jamie’s flat.