Jan Garner didn’t smile when Charlie walked into her gallery. ‘I preferred it when the police didn’t turn up every five minutes,’ she said. ‘None of you ever buys anything.’ She was standing in the window, arranging artificial roses in a green glass vase— pink, yellow and white ones. They had tiny clear beads stuck to their petals and leaves: fake drops of water.

‘Any other police who’ve been here are nothing to do with me,’ Charlie told her. ‘They’d have been Met.’

‘Can you tell me what’s going on?’

‘They’ve probably told me less than they’ve told you.’ Charlie didn’t stop to give Jan Garner time to dwell on the subtle dishonesty of her answer. ‘The artist you told me about, the talented one who gave up painting after his first show sold out—was his name Aidan Seed?’

Jan nodded.

‘That’s why Mary Trelease chose you, this gallery,’ Charlie told her, aware that she didn’t have to.

‘Mary knew Aidan?’ Jan’s shock appeared to be genuine.

‘Not according to her. Did Aidan ever mention the name Mary Trelease, as far as you can remember?’

‘I haven’t spoken to him for eight years,’ said Jan. ‘I don’t think so, no. Although . . . this’ll sound daft, but when Mary walked in here last year and ordered me to frame her pictures, her name rang a bell. I put it down to one of those spooky déjà vu things, but maybe Aidan did mention her. It’s impossible to remember after all this time.’

‘What about Martha Wyers?’ Charlie asked. ‘Did he mention her?’

Jan looked surprised. ‘That was the name of the dead writer Mary painted. You saying it jogged my memory. I don’t remember Aidan talking about her, no. Ow! Thorn,’ she explained, sucking her finger. ‘Not real, but still sharp. People look down their noses at silk flowers, but I love them. They’re not phoney, they’re representations. I’ve always thought it odd that the same people who buy paintings of flowers to hang on their walls wouldn’t give houseroom to man-made roses like these.’ Was there a nervousness to Jan’s chatter, or was Charlie imagining it?

‘A couple of months before Aidan’s exhibition here, he was featured in The Times,’ she said. ‘In an article called “Future Famous Five”.’

Jan was nodding. ‘It was a huge coup, publicity-wise.’

‘You don’t remember the name Martha Wyers from that article? ’

‘No,’ she said, after a brief hesitation. ‘You mean . . .?’

‘Martha was one of the five.’