‘I mean . . .’ She flicked through each of the keys in turn. ‘Front door, back door, windows, gas meter and . . . this.’ Priest looked at the alien key – it was small and simple and with the number six faintly printed on the head. ‘It must be the tenant’s.’

‘How so? These were in your drawer.’

‘Only recently,’ Sarah recalled. ‘The agents contacted me about a week ago and said the tenant had asked for a duplicate set because the back door key kept getting stuck. They gave him their set and they sent this set back to me.’

Priest’s eyes widened as a surge of adrenaline flushed through him. There is a turning point in every case – a point when a piece of evidence emerges from the thick fog of obscurity, rising to the surface like a beacon pointing the way. Is this that point?

‘Sarah,’ he said, putting his hand around the set of keys. ‘On reflection, could I have these back?’

Chapter 30

Chapter 30

Georgie sat in the passenger seat of Charlie’s Volvo playing with the key between her fingers. They were parked two hundred or so yards from the flat Simeon had rented but on the opposite side of Bristol Road. It was busier than when they had been here the last time, although Georgie recognised the rowdy gang of idlers huddled together outside the William Hill, each cradling a can of lager.

Charlie had a phone to his ear and was waiting for someone to pick up at the police station. When they eventually did he rolled his eyes and cast her an exasperated look.

‘Hello? Yes . . . Could I speak with DCI Rowlinson, please . . . It’s Priest . . . No . . . It’s just Priest. He’ll know who I am . . . If you could just . . . Well . . . Yes, I’ll hold.’

He fiddled around with the touch screen and placed the phone on the dashboard in front of them. ‘Hands-free,’ he explained.

‘Do you think Simeon knew what was going to happen and ditched this key on purpose?’ Georgie asked.

‘That’s possible, I suppose. If it’s important then it seems like a strange mistake to have left it on another set.’

Georgie studied the head and the faded number six printed onto the metal. ‘It looks like a locker key,’ she commented.

‘I thought that, too.’

‘That’s why we’re here, isn’t it? To see if we can find out where this key goes?’

Charlie didn’t get a chance to answer before Rowlinson crackled over the phone. The audio quality was poor but there was a distinct echo chasing Rowlinson’s voice.

‘Priest,’ Rowlinson said. ‘Who’s died now?’

Charlie leant across to make sure his voice captured every element of ironical intonation. ‘Do you mind awfully if I have a poke around my flat? I rather think the heating might have been left on.’

‘No, can you fuck, Priest. SOCO have only just left.’