‘We should go to the police,’ he says, turning his whole body towards me. ‘They think I did this. That I killed her. They found the video,’ he continues. ‘The one Sabine took of us. It uploaded to her fucking iCloud and they think I had a reason. If they find one more shred of evidence against me I’m fucked. But this… this could change everything.’

Guilt courses through me. Because if it wasn’t for me the police wouldn’t have been looking for that video. They might never have even got a warrant for her iCloud. He might not be a suspect.

‘We need more,’ I say. Firm.

‘Why? It’s all there.’

I shake my head. ‘If we take it to the police now, Agnès could just say it was a print. Or a fake. The original has officially been destroyed. And there’s nothing on that document that is illegal. Her name isn’t even on it. There is nothing other than the location to link that painting to Agnès even if they did believe it was real. And also, Agnès is basically the Mother Teresa of the art world. Nobody is going to bring her down without a lot more proof. And if she thinks we’re onto her she’ll have a chance to destroy everything. Then you’ll definitely get the blame.’

The room is so silent that I can hear him swallow.

‘You’re right,’ he says, holding his head in his hands. ‘And she knows everyone. She’ll be protected. I’m so fucked.’

He looks at me. ‘But what other proof is there?’

‘We need something linking her to it all. This is most likely not the first time she’s done something like this, it’s just the first one Sabine got on video. There must be documentation somewhere. Do you have access to Agnès’s computers? Know any of her passwords?’

‘No.’ He shakes his head. ‘But that wouldn’t help anyway. A few months back she got paranoid as fuck. She wouldn’t let anyone email her anything. Something about cyber crime.’

Or something about that video Sabine took of her computer screen. She’d been compromised and she knew it.

‘Okay…’ I say, thinking.

The room is silent and smells of coffee.

‘Oh my god,’ Noah says, his voice husky. I turn to look at him. ‘This is why she had that tracker on my car. The spyware on my phone. She was trying to keep tabs on what I knew.’ His voice is feeble and his eyes are wide. Like he’s seeing her clearly for the first time.

‘Maybe…’ I say and then I watch as he turns to stare at a wall. His jaw clenches and unclenches. His shoulders tense. But when he looks back to me his gaze is solid.