She realized that she had no idea. All she knew was that someone had been in here. Walking through the rest of the flat just confirmed the feeling. Looking for a logical explanation, she decided to check with Mrs Rosen across the landing, who held her spare key.

‘Ava, you’re home.’ Mrs Rosen looked delighted to find her on her doorstep.

Ava stopped her neighbour from beginning her commiserations on what had taken her to Orkney and asked if anyone had come looking for her in her absence.

Mrs Rosen looked surprised, then nodded. ‘A man did knock to ask me when you would be back and I told him I didn’t know.’

After being given a description of her visitor, which she didn’t recognize, Ava asked, ‘Did this man give a name or say why he wanted to see me?’

‘No, dear, he didn’t. Should I have asked?’

Ava tried to look unconcerned. ‘No matter, Mrs Rosen. It couldn’t have been important.’

Re-entering the flat, she contemplated the latest development. The man hadn’t left a name, but whoever he was, he’d learned from Mrs Rosen that the flat was empty.

Which gave him the opportunity to break in and do what? There was no mess, so he hadn’t been searching for anything. Plus her back-up laptop was still here and when she’d switched it on to check, it was working okay.

That didn’t mean it hadn’t been interfered with. Ava shut it down again, then began looking for bugs in all the usual places.

She was on her knees under the desk when she heard the front door open and footsteps enter the hallway.

She froze, unsure what to do next. She could stay hidden and hope whoever it was didn’t come in here. Or she could call out and challenge them. Chances were, they might leave if she did.

She shouted, ‘Who’s there?’ in as commanding a tone as she could manage.

‘Ava?’ Mark’s voice answered in return.

Relief sweeping over her like a warm wave, she ran into the hall and threw her arms about her former lover as though they’d never split up in the first place. ‘I forgot you still had a key.’

It was then she registered the cut mouth, the swollen right eye already turning fifteen shades of purple.

‘What the hell—’ she began.

Mark raised a hand to stop her. ‘First things first. Is there any whisky in the house?’

He followed her into the kitchen where she poured him a shot of Highland Park. Taking a gulp, he swirled it round his mouth before swallowing it and offering up the glass for a refill.

‘So,’ he finally said, ‘is David going to cover the Orlova story?’

When Ava shook her head, Mark showed no surprise. ‘Did he give you a reason?’

‘He says the Met are after you.’