Rebus put the phone down and waited, staring at it. But no more calls came. He went to the kitchen to make a mug of tea, and discovered he was out of tea-bags and milk. Without bothering with a jacket, he headed downstairs and out to the local deli, where he added some ham, rolls and mustard to the shopping. Back at the main door to the tenement, someone was trying one of the buzzers.

‘Come on, I know you’re there …’

‘Hello, Siobhan.’

She turned towards him. ‘Christ, you gave me a …’ She put a hand to her throat. Rebus stretched an arm past her and unlocked the door.

‘Because I sneaked up on you, or because you thought I was sitting upstairs with my wrists slashed?’ He held the door open for her.

‘What? No, that’s not what I was thinking.’ But the colour was rising to her cheeks.

‘Well, just to stop you worrying, if I’m ever going to top myself, it’ll be with a lot of drink and some pills. And by “a lot” I mean two or three days’ worth, so you’ll have plenty of warning.’

He preceded her up the stairs, opened his front door.

‘Your lucky day,’ he said. ‘Not only am I not dead, but I can offer tea and rolls with ham and mustard.’

‘Just tea, thanks,’ she said, finally regaining some composure. ‘Hey, the hall looks great!’

‘Take a look around. I may as well get used to it.’

‘You mean it’s on the market?’

‘As from next week.’

She opened a bedroom door, stuck her head round. ‘Dimmer switch,’ she commented, trying it out.

Rebus went into the kitchen and stuck the kettle on, found two clean mugs in the cupboard. One of them said ‘World’s Greatest Dad’. It wasn’t his; one of the sparkies must have left it. He decided Siobhan could have her tea in it, he’d have the taller one with the poppies and the chipped rim.

‘You didn’t paint the living room,’ she said, coming into the kitchen.

‘It was done not so long ago.’

She nodded. There was something he wasn’t saying, but she wasn’t going to force it.

‘You and Grant still an item then?’ he asked.

‘We never were. And that’s the subject closed.’

He got the milk from the fridge. ‘Better be careful, you’ll be getting a rep.’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Unsuitable men. One of them was staring daggers at me all morning.’

‘Oh God, Derek Linford.’ She was thoughtful. ‘Didn’t he look awful?’

‘Doesn’t he always?’ Rebus placed a tea-bag in each mug. ‘So, are you here to check up on me or thank me for sticking my neck out?’

‘I’m not about to thank you for that. You could have stayed quiet, and you know it. If you owned up, it was because you wanted to.’ She broke off.