‘Really, we’ve more important things to discuss than your shoe. Sit down and we’ll get on.’

Jansen sits, but it’s with considerable bad grace. He places the shoe on the table in front of him.

‘Rykel, carry on.’

‘Up until now the only thing the two victims had in common was their mode of death. But I’ve got another connection here. Marianne Kleine’s father was involved in a pharmaceutical company, DH Biotech. The thing is, I remembered that name from somewhere. Took me a little while to track it down, and, sure enough, Judge Muller was –’

‘Rykel!’ I look up to see Frank Beving’s at the doorway. ‘You’ve not been here a day and you’re already starting to piss me off.’

I have that effect on people. But in this case I’ve no idea why. Beving steps into the room and tosses a box onto the table we’re sitting round. His aim’s good, and it slides across, spinning as it does, and hits me in the chest with a sharp corner. It’s plain white with the black swoop logo.

‘You are not to get junior members of staff to run personal errands. You want to buy some running shoes you can damn well go and get them yourself. On your own time.’

Once he’s left I push the box across to Jansen, now glaring at me.

‘Sorry. From Kush.’

He takes the box and opens it up, checking them over with frank suspicion.

Vermeer clears her throat. ‘If everyone’s happy now, let’s hear what Rykel has to say.’

‘Yes, let’s,’ Jansen replies, glaring at me.

I don’t like the accusatory tone. Neither does Vermeer it seems.

‘About the case,’ she clarifies.

‘As I was saying –’ I avoid Jansen’s incendiary gaze. ‘– Marianne Kleine’s father was involved with DH Biotech. Now if you look at these company records you’ll see a familiar name, Koen Muller, also known as Judge Muller, Lucie’s father.’

I let that all sink in. Here I am, less than a day in, and I’ve found the link between the victims. Vermeer must be impressed.

‘Oooookay,’ Vermeer says. ‘And?’

Well, if so, she has a funny way of showing it.

‘There is no “and”. Yet. But here is a possible connection between the victims: they were both the daughters of people involved with DH Biotech. I think that warrants a little more excitement.’

‘All right, look into it. Jansen, I need a word. If you’ve got over the shoe thing?’

Heads swivel. We all wait.

‘At least they’re the right size,’ he concedes, pulling one out and inspecting it from various angles. ‘But the colour’s different.’

‘What about the PO box?’ I ask him. ‘Any movement?’

‘I’ve got someone waiting there,’ he answers, still stroppy. ‘I told them to call me if anyone comes to collect.’