Maybe I should. Long ago, Jo and I had agreed we would not routinely accompany each other on work trips away from home. There were a few exceptions, but most of our visits to festivals, artshow openings, conferences, gallery parties, conventions, etc., were taken alone. The trouble and intrusion of unnecessary work-related travel was most of what we wanted to avoid – my recent trip to Dearth was a case in point. It would have been a complete waste of time for Jo. But in recent months, now she was branching out, Jo had started taking on some adventurous and interesting commissions. She clearly wanted to share them with me. I was more than willing. It would be fun travelling with Jo when she was doing so well.

She showed me some coloured sketches she had made of the set designs she was working on. Because I was driving I could only glance at them while she held them up. I said I would look properly later.

We skirted around Raba City on the freeway, the glass towers of the financial district glittering in the sun.

I said: ‘I should warn you. When we get home we’re likely to be receiving some visitors.’

‘Not Spoder?’

‘Spoder, yes . . . and one other.’

‘Not today, Todd. Please put him off! I’ve been on planes for ages. I haven’t eaten a proper meal for hours, I want to shower, wash my hair, change my clothes—’

‘This is going to a be a short visit, I promise you. You don’t have to talk to him, even see him.’

‘No, Todd. I’m too tired and hungry to have Spoder around the house. I just want a quiet day at home. That bloody motorcycle.’

‘We can stop somewhere on the way and find something to eat. Then when we arrive home, you don’t have to see Spoder. I’ll take him out to the patio. I’ll get rid of him as soon as I can.’

‘Why not tell him to come back another day?’

‘It’s not possible this time.’

After a short silence, Jo said: ‘Is this something to do with those old murder cases you said you’ve been researching?’

‘Yes – but this is the end. I need just a few minutes, and he and the other person will be gone.’

‘Who is this other person?’

‘He’s called Enver Jeksid. Maybe I haven’t mentioned him to you before. He’s one of the police who was involved.’ I could not remember at that moment how much I had kept Jo abreast of the story. ‘I have to meet him – he’s come to Raba specially to see me. I’ll get rid of them both quickly.’