Georgie breathed in but decided against asking any more questions about Charlie’s personal life. It always seemed like trespassing. Instead she stole a sideways glance at his profile – watched his strong jawline and unshaven face for a moment while he concentrated on the road, eyes dead ahead. You won’t ever break that promise, will you.

‘Where are we going?’ she asked.

‘I discovered that the boy in the photograph we found at Simeon’s hideout is Julian Greenwood. He’s ten years old and the son of Dominique Elias. He’s standing outside Dominique and Alexia’s former home.’

Georgie gasped. ‘How did you find that out?’

‘That’s a long story but I had a bit of help.’

‘Dominique and Alexia can’t have children, if you listen to idle gossip.’

‘Alexia can’t have children. This is Dominique’s kid. I’ve no idea who the mother is yet.’

Georgie shifted in her seat. She wondered whether the help Charlie was referring to was Elinor Fox. If it was, then she didn’t trust the information.

‘So, we’re going to the house in the picture?’

‘It’s in Norfolk. So sit back and relax.’

There was a buzzing noise and they both felt around their pockets. It turned out to be Priest’s phone. He answered it and kept driving with one hand. Georgie did a quick sweep of the road in front and behind for police although that didn’t seem to have occurred to Charlie. She caught only one side of the conversation:

‘Hi, Tiff . . . I’m doing great . . . Me? Not much. Just going to the gym, actually . . . No of course I wouldn’t be looking into Simeon’s death, that’s your job . . . Of course I’d tell you if I had anything . . . Honestly, Tiff, you’d be the first to know . . . No . . . I can’t talk to the claimant, Tiff, you know that. Professional etiquette and all that bollocks . . . Really? How long? Interesting . . . I’m sure we can meet tomorrow, just text me a time later . . . OK, see you.’

Charlie clicked his tongue, something Georgie had noticed he generally did at the point of some revelation or other manifesting itself.

‘What?’

‘That was Rowlinson,’ Priest reported. ‘He was trying to get hold of Alexia Elias to talk to her about Simeon’s murder. Turns out the husband hasn’t seen her since Friday although he doesn’t seem too bothered; apparently she’s prone to going AWOL when she’s stressed.’

‘A bit strange, though, don’t you think?’

He pulled a face. ‘Maybe.’

‘Do you think Alexia is somehow involved in Simeon’s death?’

He appeared to give the question considerable thought before he remarked, ‘I think she has an awful lot to gain from it.’