‘I’m not asking you to lie for me,’ Dani said. ‘I never would. Just tell them the truth.’

He checked his watch. ‘Sorry, I’ve really got to go.’

He turned and headed away.

Moments later Dani saw a frumpy woman coming towards her from the other side of the gates. Dani didn’t recognise her, but when the woman locked eyes with her she knew who she was. Dani got to her feet.

‘Is there anything else you’d like to tell us about the events leading up to Dean Harland’s death?’ asked the frumpy woman, who it turned out was DCI Barlow from Professional Standards. Dani had never met her before, nor the fresh-faced man sat next to her in the small conference room, DS Sturridge.

‘No, I’ve told you everything,’ Dani said.

They’d already been in the room for more than an hour, and Dani was pleased with herself for remaining calm, professional and relaxed despite the barrage of questions and nitpicking that she’d already endured.

‘Are you absolutely sure, DI Stephens?’ Sturridge asked.

Dani locked eyes with him but tried her best not to glare.

‘Yes. I’m sure.’

Sturridge looked at Barlow. Barlow looked at Sturridge and gave a slight nod. Sturridge shuffled the papers in front of him.

‘Is there a problem?’ Dani asked, just about keeping her tone level.

‘DI Stephens, as you can probably imagine, we’ve spoken to a great deal of witnesses from last week,’ Barlow said. ‘After all, the foot chase took place in the early evening on busy streets.’

Barlow left the statement hanging, as though Dani was supposed to understand the point being made.

‘So? What are you trying to tell me?’ Dani said. ‘Are you implying my version of events differs from that of the witnesses you’ve spoken to?’

Once again she thought about Easton. What had he said? But Dani had told nothing but the truth, so what was the issue?

Barlow looked to Sturridge again. The young DS held up a piece of paper and read out the words: ‘Please, help me. You’ve got to help me.’

Sturridge stopped, and looked up at Dani. She didn’t move a muscle. Her whole body was rigid, even though her brain was on fire.

‘Help me. She’s going to kill me.’

Another dramatic pause.

‘They want to kill me. Help.’

Dani wasn’t sure how much longer she could hold her emotions in. And it was anger – and quite strangely, fear – that was winning out.

‘Did you, at any point, hear Dean Harland say or shout out any of those phrases?’ Barlow asked.

‘No,’ Dani said, her tone surprisingly measured. ‘Absolutely not.’

‘We have more than one witness who has asserted that these were the words Dean Harland said before he was killed.’

‘No,’ Dani said, shaking her head, now more in disbelief. ‘That’s just not true.’