Still with her weight against him, she grabbed at his right arm, searching for the wrist, desperate to find a pulse. Nothing. His right hand, dangling by the door, was locked around a pistol’s grip.

The song reached its end, the final note dying away. It was over.

There was no going back. No happy ending.

Sara knew that Patrick had not held or fired that gun. She also knew that she’d never be able to prove it.

She felt in the jacket pocket where he’d put back his copy of the contract. It was empty.

Chapter 31

31

The phone call came just after 8 a.m. Even though she’d half expected it, Sara was still surprised at the speed and the voice on the line. She was invited to choose a meeting place – ‘somewhere open that would suit us both’ – and proposed the Temperance Fountain on the east tip of Clapham Common, a minute from the tube. With families and children all around, it felt safe territory.

She hadn’t got home till 4 a.m. The response to her 999 call was fast and the police asked her to wait inside while they sealed the scene. Although it appeared to be a clear case of suicide, they said there would be a full forensic examination. As the hour was so late, the interviewing officer suggested a short, initial chat and asked her to attend Reading police station over the next day or two to make a full statement.

She’d given them bare, but truthful, bones: she and Patrick had been professional colleagues for just a few weeks; they were working together on a government inquiry and had visited Wales to interview a potential witness; Patrick’s frame of mind had been good and cheerful; nothing during the day had, as far as she knew, affected his frame of mind; she wasn’t aware of any present issues in his personal life though she didn’t know him well; he’d told her he’d been divorced for a while and had a good relationship with his son; no, she did not know his next of kin; yes, she’d be happy to come back to Reading; no, she had no idea he had a gun and found it hard to believe.

A taxi to London was summoned – it cost her £110 at that time of night. On her arrival home she’d decided not to check Patrick’s personal mobile, realising it could be seen as tampering with evidence. She switched on her own. In the inbox was a text from the pay-as-you-go phone Patrick had carried on the trip. She tried to remember the exact timings; it must have been sent around eight minutes before she’d returned to the car.