Nightingale is big on the whole healthy body, healthy mind thing and, given that he looks good for a man who should have got a telegram from the queen more than a decade ago, I tend to follow his advice. Which is why when I’m working out of Belgravia I sometimes leave one of the Asbos there so I can run over the next morning. It’s a good route, down St Martin’s Lane still dirty from last night’s theatre crowd, across the top of Trafalgar Square before dropping down onto the Mall and giving her majesty a quick wave if she’s at home.

That morning it was cool and despite the smell of rain the sky was clear and the predawn light turned the roadway a nice shade of pink. I’d just passed the ICA when Beverley rang me – she does most mornings if I don’t stay the night at her place.

‘I don’t want to be funny babes,’ she said without preamble, ‘but when were you going to tell me you’d run into Lesley?’

I slowed to a walk, then stopped and took a deep breath of chill air.

‘Well, for a start, I wasn’t going to do it over the phone,’ I said. ‘Where did you hear that from?’

‘Tyburn ran into me “by accident” yesterday,’ said Beverley. ‘Couldn’t wait to tell me. And what have you done to piss her off?

‘I didn’t fulfil my wool quota,’ I said.

‘And Lesley?’

‘Tried to kill me a couple of times,’ I said. ‘But I don’t think it was personal.’

‘Wait,’ said Beverley. ‘Was that Harrods?’

‘Maybe,’ I said.

‘So you roughed up the top shop,’ she said. ‘No wonder Ty is pissed. Did you get me a present?’

‘I was busy at the time,’ I said. ‘Was there something you wanted?’

‘Always,’ said Beverley. ‘You chasing Lesley now?’

‘Not my job,’ I said. ‘The DPS is responsible for Lesley, and they don’t want me anywhere near the case. And if you like being police – and I do – then you don’t mess with the DPS.’

‘And the real reason?’

‘She’s taunting me,’ I said. ‘What with the texts last year and popping up at Harrods like that. I think she’s trying to pull me off balance.’

The breeze down the Mall was making the sweat chill on my legs and back. I started walking again.

‘Maybe she’s trying to tell you something,’ said Beverley.

‘Then she can send me a letter,’ I said. ‘Or, better still, turn herself in.’

‘Hey,’ said Beverley. ‘Just saying.’

‘Sorry, Bev,’ I said.

‘Are you coming over tonight? I’ve got to do an essay on the atmospheric carbon cycle for tomorrow – you could help me with my chemistry.’

‘Can’t,’ I said. ‘I’m planning to blow up some phones for science.’