Charlie raised her voice. ‘I bribed my way to the front of the taxi queue – literally, I shoved a twenty-quid note in the hand of the first woman in the queue, leapt in a cab and yelled, ‘Quick, follow that Skoda!’

‘Wouldn’t have been any consolation for all the others waiting,’ said Simon.

‘God, you’re right! Let’s worry about them forever.’ Charlie opened her door, pulled her cigarettes out of her bag and lit one with the lighter inside the packet. ‘I was sure the car-chase ruse wouldn’t work, but, amazingly, it did. My cabbie was able to stay close enough to the Skoda to see each turn it took. Round the ring road we went, past the Backs, and we ended up on a side street next to the Punter pub. Nikhil parked, he and Liv got out; into the pub they went … Once the coast was clear, I got out of my taxi, gave the driver a large tip—’

‘Expensive day,’ Simon observed.

‘… and set about peering discreetly in through the windows. The woman was there: Nikhil’s girlfriend, partner, whatever – she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. I still don’t know her name. For the next two hours, she, Nikhil and Liv had lunch. I’m guessing you don’t want to know what each of them ate? Because I could tell you.’ Charlie grinned to herself. ‘My surveillance detail was that successful.’

‘Skip it.’

‘Eventually they finished lunch and asked for the bill. Liv paid. They all got back into the Skoda and headed off. I’d had time to hide, meanwhile, behind a parked van. When I was certain they’d driven off, I went in and threw a bit of my police weight around, in the nicest way possible. I found out the table had been booked by a Nikhil Gulati. I’ve Googled him – he works for a wine company.’

‘How is it helpful to know that?’

Charlie held her breath for a few seconds. Then she said, ‘You’d have thought three people having lunch together might chat, wouldn’t you? They didn’t.’

This snagged Simon’s interest. Finally. ‘They sat in silence?’

‘Oh, no, they talked. Non-stop, but it was … I don’t know, a business meeting or a planning session for a bank heist or something. There was nothing casual or relaxed about the conversation – and believe me, you didn’t have to be an expert on facial expressions and body language to work that out. I tried to lip-read and failed.’

‘It’s easy to misinterpret something you see through a window,’ said Simon.

‘You’re thinking about Muriel Pearson and the Asda van again, aren’t you?’

‘I’m thinking I need to go and speak to her. But James Wing’d find out, and it’s his patch. He’d want in.’

‘As you would if Wing wanted to ask questions unilaterally on your patch,’ said Charlie.