‘We just need to ask you a few questions,’ the police officer says.

Stacey looks at the two detectives standing on her doorstep. Not uniformed: higher up the chain than that. They introduce themselves as DCI Andrew Hollander and DS Mehdi Mehdi.

This is how it starts:

We just need to ask you a few questions.

‘Please,’ she says, ‘come in.’

She leads the way upstairs to the kitchen. She’s glad she moved Archie’s school photograph to cover the hole Felix punched in the wall beside the fridge a few weeks ago: she doesn’t want to give the two officers any reason to ask questions.

‘I realise this must be a distressing time for you,’ DCI Hollander says. ‘And we are aware of your position regarding the media, so we will try to be discreet.’

‘I appreciate that. May I get either of you anything to drink? Tea? Coffee?’

‘Nothing for me, thank you.’

‘Perhaps a glass of water?’ DS Mehdi says.

He’s older than his senior officer: early fifties, at a guess. Cheap suit, badly worn shoes, but his black eyes are sharp and miss nothing. Stacey knows that of the two of them, this is the one she has to fear.

She leads them into the open-plan living room. DCI Hollander perches awkwardly on the edge of one of the vintage Eames lounge chairs, but his colleague remains standing.

‘May we ask when you last saw your husband?’ DCI Hollander says.

She hesitates, knowing how this will sound. ‘About two weeks ago.’

DCI Hollander’s bland expression doesn’t change. He can’t be more than thirty, Stacey thinks, though she realises she’s old enough now to subscribe to the cliché of thinking all policemen look young.

‘Two weeks?’ he repeats. ‘Is that usual?’

‘Not usual, no,’ she says uncomfortably.

‘So, you haven’t seen him since before the news about Copper Beech became public ten days ago?’ DS Mehdi asks.

She startles: she hadn’t noticed him move behind her.

‘No,’ she says. ‘I’ve had a lot on at work.’

‘You didn’t go to be with him once the story broke?’

She looks at her hands. ‘We agreed it’d be better if I kept a low profile.’

DS Mehdi wanders over to the window and gazes down at the street. Stacey wishes he’d just keep still. ‘So you left him to face the music on his own, Mrs Porter?’

‘It was his music,’ Stacey says, nettled.

‘Did you know about the misappropriation of funds at Copper Beech ahead of the public announcement of insolvency?’

‘I knew there were problems with the company,’ she says carefully. ‘Obviously I had no idea about anything illegal.’

‘Were you and your husband getting on generally?’ DCI Hollander asks.

Stacey suppresses the urge to tell the young man it’s none of his business. Her husband is missing: everything is his business.

‘Felix and I were working through a few issues,’ she admits.