She enters a dimly lit third floor, which seems both tranquil and desolate. The only sign of life comes from Klara’s hub which is lit up like the Mothership. She sees the analyst’s head down behind her bank of monitors.

‘Hey,’ says Archer as she enters Klara’s domain.

‘Hi, Grace.’

Archer takes of her coat and drops it on a chair. ‘What’s the latest?’

‘Tighe and Furlong were not at home. Harry and the team are on their way to Bethnal Green to stake out one of their dealing haunts. How’s your grandad?’

‘He’s doing OK, I think.’

‘Are you worried about him?’

Archer feels a chill and rubs her arms. ‘I’m trying not to be.’

‘He’s in the best place. It’s a good hospital.’

‘I know.’

Archer looks across at Klara’s monitors and notices one with an open police report containing a photograph of a similar moped used by the phone thief.

‘Is that what I think it is?’

‘Yes . . . but . . . the owner is a young woman, who reported it missing three weeks back.’

‘Oh well. It was worth a shot.’

‘I’m sorry, Grace.’

‘Don’t be. Besides, it’s not like we don’t have enough on our plates.’

‘True. So do you think Faulkner is the killer?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Hicks seems to think so.’

‘Does he now?’

‘According to Hicks, Faulkner’s troubled childhood, his history of drugs and violence and his dislike of minority groups mark him out as our number one suspect. This case will be sewn up as soon as we find and arrest him, apparently.’

‘Hicks listens to too many true crime podcasts.’

Klara chuckles. ‘I think we both know he uses them as a detective learning resource.’

The phone rings. Klara answers. She mouths ‘Quinn’ to Archer and places the call on speaker.

‘Hi, Harry. I’m here with DI Archer.’

‘We’ve picked up Tighe and Furlong. We’re on our way back.’

It’s almost midnight by the time Kevin Furlong and John Tighe have been processed and put into separate interview rooms awaiting an inquisition from Archer and Quinn. The search has revealed four bags of cannabis, a bag of MDMA and the key to Faulkner’s car.