‘It’s showing “Number unavailable”,’ Kate says.

‘Answer it, Kate. It’s probably him.’

She takes the call. It’s not Rob.

28

Silas

Silas waits for what seems like half the car-owning population of Cornwall to drive out of the village before he steers down the single-track road to the quayside. Miraculously, he finds somewhere to park. The sandy beach is spread out below them and beyond it the wide expanse of the sea.

He and Strover sit still for a few moments, admiring the view across to Nare Head. His father, who was also a detective, used to tell him stories about stakeouts when he was with the Regional Crime Squad in the 1980s. Everyone preferred the Mark 2 Vauxhall Cavalier in those days because you could put the seats back and sleep. Which was fine until a joint undercover operation, when half the force would turn up in the same car.

‘Mountains or seaside?’ he asks Strover, still looking ahead. It’s been a quick drive, three hours from Swindon, including the judicious use of a blue light on their unmarked car on a congested section of the M5.

‘Sorry, boss?’

‘Are you a mountain or a seaside person? People tend to be one or the other. Like Africa and India – you prefer one continent or the other. Edinburgh or Glasgow. London or New York. Mountains or seaside.’

‘Neither really,’ she says, clearly confused.

‘Where do you go on your holidays, then?’ he asks. Silas loves to travel.

‘City breaks.’

He nods his head in approval. He likes a good city break himself – Krakow last time – but he’s a seaside man at heart. Always has been. Not the big beaches but rugged coasts and hidden coves. Western Isles of Scotland, the Pelion peninsula in Greece.

‘Should you call her again?’ he asks. ‘Check that she’s still in?’

Strover rang Kate earlier, before they set off from Gablecross, exaggerating her Bristol accent to explain that she had a special Sunday flower delivery and asking if Kate would be in today. Silas was taken aback by how naturally Strover slipped into character, wondered if she’d ever considered undercover work. The deceit didn’t sit comfortably with either of them, but they needed to talk to Kate. And Jake had revealed that Kate’s new man had had to return to London. Flowers might work. If they gave her warning of their arrival, there was a good chance she’d choose not to cooperate.

‘I’ll call her again now,’ Strover says, as Silas gets out of the car. ‘Are we walking?’ she adds, surprised.

‘What flavour?’

‘Sorry?’

‘I’m buying us ice creams. You must have ice cream at the seaside.’

‘Honeycomb if they’ve got it,’ she says hesitantly as she puts the phone to her ear.

Funny, he had her down as a mint choc chip. You can tell a lot about someone from their choice of ice cream.