‘Erica Whiddon.’ It was as if his mind was stuck on the words. ‘Erica Whiddon,’ he said again.

‘What?’ Casey interrupted him. ‘Who is she?’

‘She’s a friend of mine,’ Bantham managed. ‘At the Commission. We got on well, always did.’

‘Is she the person?’ Casey asked. ‘The person who fixed the passports?’

There was a long pause.

‘I think so.’ His voice was faint, reeling with shock. ‘Yes.’

‘Why?’

Her brisk questions chipped away at his shock. ‘She worked closely for me and Sir William out there,’ he said. ‘A sort of deputy. And she stayed on in Dhaka.’

‘Have you spoken to her about the passports?’

‘Spoken to her?’ There was a long dull silence.

‘Yes, Gabriel. Have you spoken to her about it?’

‘I can’t.’

‘Well, I’ll call her then. Take me through why you think—’

‘You can’t.’

‘Of course I can, Gabriel. We’ve got to hurry.’

‘You can’t.’

‘I can.’

‘She’s dead.’ Casey stopped, staring at the adverts for banks and scent and duty-free whisky, travellers flowing around her like a rock in a river.

‘What happened?’ Her mouth moved eventually. ‘I’m sorry, Gabriel. So sorry to hear that.’

‘They found her’ – his voice was unsteady – ‘in her flat this morning. In Gulshan. She’d been attacked. Beaten about the head. Blood everywhere, they said.’

‘Do they know who did it?’

‘No,’ he said. ‘They have no idea.’

The phone line was silent for a beat.

‘Can you leave the country?’ Casey asked. ‘I think you should get out of Dhaka as soon as possible.’

‘She was such a nice woman,’ Bantham said. ‘Never married or anything. But she was so thoughtful. Remembered birthdays. She was always pleased to see you.’

‘She sounds lovely, Gabriel.’ Casey fought for patience. ‘But why do you think it was her?’

‘She had access to the emergency passports.’ Gabriel sounded almost dreamy. ‘She’s who Sir William would have turned to for help. And she had a sister, back in England, who had serious problems. I’m not sure what, but supporting her cost a lot, I know. Erica helped out. It was a big pressure. When I saw Erica yesterday, I asked after her sister, and you could just see that tension had gone. And I just suddenly realised.’

‘Sounds plausible,’ said Casey. ‘You need to get out of Bangladesh, Gabriel. It could be very dangerous. Would it look odd, you leaving today?’

‘No.’ His voice was still hazy. ‘I told everyone I would only be here for a couple of days.’

‘Get to the airport,’ Casey ordered. ‘Go there right away, Gabriel. I’ll look at flights.’

‘Poor Erica.’ It was as if he was talking to himself. ‘Poor Erica.’

‘Yes,’ Casey agreed. ‘Poor Erica.’