“Honestly,” he said, “it’s real. This site . . . These people are serious. Obviously, something’s been done to the footage to remove the assailant, but no one can figure out what. This has been passed around to all kinds of technical experts, and no one can figure out what’s been done to it. This video? It’s going to be all over the place. Every conspiracy nut in the world is going to go crazy for this.”

The image was still frozen there—the woman on her back, the strange glint hanging in the air. Jerome closed the computer partway.

“The other night,” I said. “When we were sneaking back in. I saw someone.”

“You’re a witness?” he asked.

“I was,” I said. “They made me do something called an E-fit.”

“You did an E-fit?”

I explained to Jerome about the man—how he had appeared from around the corner, how he had seen me climbing back into the window. Jerome was completely staggered by this. His jaw dropped open slightly. He was fairly loose-jawed to begin with—hence his power to declare Total War on his food, his easy smiles, his ability to talk for ages. We had probably been this close before, shoved together on the benches of the refectory, but I became acutely aware that we were alone in this little study room. Study closet, really. And we were closer now than I remembered. We must have been moving together while I was watching the video.

“It’s been weird,” I said. “Jazza didn’t see him. She was inside. I was still out on the sidewalk, so . . . they’re only talking to me. But I think they think I’m crazy. Or lying. They haven’t been in touch.”

“I’m sure they’ll get in touch when they catch him,” he said. “Then they’ll probably bring you in to identify him.”

That made sense. There was no point in contacting me until they had something to ask me.

We were so close now that I couldn’t look directly at him, not at his eyes, anyway. This is when it finally dawned on me that he hadn’t brought me in here for the sole purpose of watching a video of someone being murdered (though that was probably part of the reason).

Also, it was very warm in the little study closet.

To be honest, I’m not sure which one of us did it first, but it was a done deal as soon as I managed to pull my gaze back from his chin to his eyes.

BBC TELEVISION CENTRE, SHEPHERD’S BUSH, WEST LONDON OCTOBER 2 1:45 P.M.