‘Last night Allie and I watched a brilliantly trashy movie, Madea’s Witness Protection. You heard of it?’

‘Nope.’

‘It’s about this guy who’s a Wall Street banker and he’s been set up to run the company’s mob-backed Ponzi scheme. Then he’s nearly killed by a hit man who’s been sent by the boss so he goes to the FBI to trade what he knows for a new identity. He and his wife and two kids are coached in completely new identities and they go to another state and live there. Doesn’t end well.’

‘So?’

‘So, we were chatting about witness protection and Allie said what if Pete was under a witness protection scheme and then, when the newspaper review came out, his cover was blown and he had to leave. At once, for fear of being detected.’ Martha smiled and raised an eyebrow.

‘But you just said they give them new identities and names so how on earth would that tally?’

‘Well, yeah, but maybe enough was written about him, like the fact he was an Aussie and a chef. Oh, maybe he had a kind of signature dish that was recognisable or something.’

Fiona scratched her head. ‘Well, that’s some theory. I’m trying to remember what was in the review. What was it Cressida mentioned again?’

She looked up at the ceiling. ‘I think she wrote about his crab dish and the venison and what the hell was the pudding? Oh, I know, rhubarb syllabub with ginger macadamia shortbread. That was one of his classics, I’m pretty sure he used to cook it when he worked in Australia – in Melbourne I thought but who knows, could have been anywhere.’

‘See, that could be it. Just one little clue and you’ve got someone onto you.’

Fiona smiled. ‘It seems a bit unlikely. And do countries have agreements where they can exchange witnesses? Say from Australia to the UK?’

Martha shrugged.

‘Well, as I said, it’s a theory. I’d love to think that Pete has some amazing excuse like that for just up and leaving, but… I think we’re clutching at straws.’

‘I know, I suppose it’s a bit far-fetched. It’s just that I sometimes felt that there was something about him, like he was hiding something.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, that Saturday morning in Glenisla, when we’d stayed the night, you left to run Jamie to football in Alyth. I noticed Pete was shaking, quite badly. I asked him if he was cold and he just suddenly lost it. Shouted at me that it was none of my fucking business, stormed out and I never saw him till you came back and he was all sweetness and light.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’