Finally, he takes a deep breath, then he tells her what’s happened. There was an accident at the boat ramp this morning. A couple of people were trying to launch first thing.

‘Seemed the bloke in the car had just stopped reversing and the other bloke had walked around the back of the boat when the car slipped out completely and slid into the water. Knocked the bloke down then ran over him. He got caught on the trailer and dragged under completely.’

‘Did he … ah. Is he okay?’

‘No. He’s dead.’

Lucy stares at Mitch vacantly. She knows what he’s saying; she knows she’s waiting for the words to register. She breathes in, out. Then it hits her: Jem. Jem, what have you done?

‘Jeez,’ she can barely choke the word out.

‘There’s more,’ Mitch says grimly. ‘Of course I was called to the scene and upon investigation I discovered foul play.’ He pauses for a moment, then elaborates: ‘In the bushes, I found a big, empty drum of oil that was pilfered from outside the pub last night. Seems someone had slopped it all over the ramp.’

‘God,’ Lucy says, heart racing.

Mitch peers at her expectantly, waiting for her to speak.

What can she say? What does he want from her?

‘Why would someone do that?’ she finally blurts out.

‘Well, that’s what I was hoping you could help me with.’

‘Me?’

‘Yes, you. What were you doing last night?’

‘Me?’ she asks again, shocked. ‘You saw me. I’d been swimming.’

‘Seems pretty unlikely,’ Mitch says. ‘Seemed pretty suspicious to me last night.’

‘I had, I … I’d just been over to the Seabornes’ for a drink and on the way home the bay looked so pretty in the starlight I just … decided to swim.’

‘To the Seabornes’, hey? So they can corroborate your story?’

‘Um. Yes?’

He looks unconvinced. ‘So I could call Flo and she would tell me that you were with her all last night, having a drink?’ he asks sceptically.

‘Well, no,’ Lucy admits. ‘Flo wasn’t there.’

Mitch’s eyebrows shoot up, and a nasty grin sidles onto his face. ‘So I could just call Harry then,’ he says slowly, ‘and he would tell me that you were with him last night having a … drink?’

‘Yes,’ Lucy says. She knows the word comes out sounding like she thinks it’s the clang of a death knell.

‘Don’t mind if I do,’ Mitch says. He leans back in his chair so that he can wiggle his phone from his pocket, then places the call, watching her while the ringtone chirrups. She hears Harry’s muffled voice answer, but can’t make out the shape of his words. Mitch doesn’t take his eyes from hers for the entire conversation. His smile grows steadily wider. Lucy’s heart sinks.

‘Mate,’ he says. ‘What were you doing last night?’

‘Night in, hey? Anyone with you?’

‘Just a quiet one, hey?’

‘On the beat, actually. You know how it is.’