‘Reconditioned smartphones.’ He had a box of them up in his room. He’d waited days for her to ask. This was getting a bit more interesting. He watched as she took the beers out to the garden and waited for her to return.

‘Who do you sell to?’ she asked the moment she returned. She was more interested in this than anything he’d said about his timeshare in the Canaries, or his hot tub at home.

‘The smaller high street retailers and repair shops, normally. Can’t get into the big outlets like Carphone Warehouse, unfortunately. But I beat them on price every time.’

‘Really? How much?’ She bent down to change over a barrel of beer, and hauled the first few pints noisily into a bucket from the hand-pull. Slater noticed the strong arms and good muscle definition.

‘Varying prices, obviously. From about forty quid. They’re not the newest models. I can bring a couple down if you like.’

Vicky licked her lips, and stared out into the lounge. ‘Okay,’ she said quietly.

Slater went to his room and brought down a briefcase, which he opened to show a dozen different phones, mainly Samsung and LG models, still in their boxes.

‘They look new,’ she said, loading a tray of dirty glasses into the dishwasher. Slater opened a box and handed her a shiny maroon Samsung.

‘They’re in perfect condition,’ he said. ‘Latest software updates even though the handset isn’t the newest model. You can do anything on them.’ He listed the various features. ‘And it’s all pay-as-you-go, no contract. Already five quid credit on each. Just need to link it to your email.’

‘No address?’

He shook his head. ‘No, totally confidential. Data wiped. Guaranteed.’

Slater had used this gambit many times before when he’d had trouble tracking people down. He omitted to mention the smartphones had all been preloaded with an app, freely available from US websites, though illegal to use in the UK without the user’s permission. The app had three features. The first was a tracker which connected with the phone’s GPS, and forwarded the locations of the phone on Google Maps to his own phone. The second copied and forwarded all texts and voicemails, and the third stored voice recordings every time the phone was used. Slater couldn’t listen in real time, but received a text each time a recording was finished, which he could then download onto his phone. He’d even shown some of his divorce clients how to load the tracking app onto their spouse’s phone.

‘How much is this one?’ she said, picking up one of the older models.

‘That’s forty-five quid. But I tell you what. If you take the Samsung Galaxy, normally one-hundred-and-twenty, I can let you have the two for one-hundred-and-fifty. The cheap one would make a nice present for someone.’