‘All presents from Angela. They had sentimental value for Josh. “And only sentimental value,” as he regularly used to say. But he kept them all in the drawer under his bed, because they were from her.’ Lisa’s eyes filled with tears again. ‘Josh didn’t make friends easily. He could be quite intense. Angela really meant a lot to him.’

‘What did you mean about only sentimental value?’

Lisa made a face. ‘Angela was a bit rubbish when it came to presents – not for want of trying! Did you see the Star Wars characters tie?’

‘Yeah.’

‘I mean, Josh adored Star Wars but he didn’t want to wear it round his neck! He had no use for a Kindle – screens were for work and porn, he said – and the butter dish and recipe book … Angela kept trying to inspire him to cook and host dinner parties in his nice big kitchen, but Josh was a takeaway and leftovers man through and through. Cocktails were all he was interested in making himself.’

‘I need to step out into the garden and make a phone call,’ Sellers told her. ‘I’ll be back shortly.’

Aware that people sometimes didn’t answer their phones when you urgently needed them to, Sellers willed Simon to pick up.

He was in luck.

‘I’m at Josh Norbury’s flat with Josh’s sister,’ he said, realising how breathless he was when he tried to speak.

‘I don’t want to know,’ Simon said. ‘Why are you telling me? Fucking hell, man, what’s wrong with you? Her brother’s just died!’

‘What?’ Sellers was momentarily confused. ‘No, not like that. I haven’t thought about her from that angle, not once.’

‘Then I don’t get it. What are you doing there?’

‘I asked her to meet me. I wanted to have another go at—’ Sellers broke off. ‘Look, that’s not important. Here’s what is: Angela McCabe bought Josh various presents he didn’t want, but that he kept anyway. Lisa’s about to take them home with her, knowing they mattered to Josh on a sentimental level. I happened to see them in a bag, waiting in the bathroom to go to her house. One of them struck me as being possibly significant.’

‘In the bathroom?’ said Simon. ‘Do you think she was trying to hide them from you?’

Sellers frowned. ‘No. At least … that hadn’t occurred to me. I mean, I was bound to go into the bathroom at some point, so she didn’t hide them very well.’

‘Go on. What were they?’

‘A butter dish, a Kindle, a grotesque tie with Star Wars characters on it and a recipe book – written by guess which celebrity chef?’

When no answer came, Sellers examined his phone to check he hadn’t lost reception. ‘Simon? Are you there?’

Still silence.

‘Simon!’

‘Yeah, I’m here.’