Nicky wrote down the name and address the manager gave her. She thanked him, and, ten minutes after hanging up the phone, was on her way through another October squall to the other side of the city. She found the building she was looking for down a cul-de-sac, at the end furthest from the main road. The sign on the doorway, however, seemed to indicate the building contained a dental surgery, which wasn’t the type of practice Nicky was looking for. She was about to buzz anyway when a woman’s voice spoke from behind her.

‘Can I help you?’

The rain had stopped, and the woman was lowering an umbrella. She was in her early fifties, Nicky guessed, with greying blonde hair and a wary smile.

‘I’m looking for Susanna Fenton,’ Nicky said. ‘The psychotherapist? I was told she worked in this building.’

‘I’m Susanna,’ the woman said. ‘Are you looking to make an appointment?’

‘Not as such.’ Nicky showed the woman her ID. ‘I’m Detective Sergeant Nicola Collins. I was hoping to have a quick word.’

Susanna Fenton’s smile immediately faltered. Nicky was used to people reacting guardedly whenever she announced herself as a police officer, but her intuition in this case was that Susanna had likely had dealings with the police before. Maybe Melissa Haynes wasn’t the first client of hers to get themselves in trouble.

‘The manager at Shining Light passed me your details, Ms Fenton. It’s about one of the residents there, who I understand you were seeing.’

‘I have a number of clients at Shining Light, Detective Sergeant. I volunteer there once a week, and submitting to counselling is one of the conditions of residency.’

‘So I understand,’ said Nicky. ‘This client in particular is potentially in a great deal of trouble. I hesitate to use the phrase, but it would be no exaggeration to say it is a matter of life and death.’ She indicated the door behind her. ‘Could we perhaps talk inside?’

Susanna led Nicky up to a small but cosy room on the first floor of the building. They passed the dental surgery on the way, and Nicky tried not to wince at the high-pitched drilling noise that was seeping from the other side of the closed door. Inside the psychotherapist’s office, the two women settled on opposite sides of a narrow desk. There was a pretty Georgian window behind Susanna’s chair, and through it Nicky could see that another heavy downpour was bearing in.

‘Before you go on, Detective Sergeant, I feel I have to make clear that I would never betray a client’s confidence. Everything discussed in therapy is strictly private, meaning there is likely to be very little I’ll be able to tell you.’

‘I understand, Ms Fenton—’

‘Susanna, please.’