A slight smile appeared on Molly’s lips and her eyes softened. ‘I know you said people don’t really have turquoise eyes, but I swear he did, plus high cheekbones, perfectly sculpted lips and an amazing chiselled jaw. He wore a leather jacket over a white T-shirt and jeans – very young Marlon Brando. In short,’ Molly said, ‘he was sex on legs. And his voice was hypnotic. The second time we met, he was going on and on about the workings of the canal, leaning down to look into that gloomy lock chamber. But he could have been talking about anything, it didn’t matter. I would have listened to him forever.’

Her smile dimmed. ‘He was young, only a couple of years older than Remi and now he’s dead and somewhere, some mother and father, maybe siblings, are mourning.’ She felt a deep sense of sadness for the loss of this man she’d admired and lusted after but never known.

Amelia squeezed her hand again. ‘He was probably involved with some shady characters, wait, you’ll see; just because he looked good, doesn’t mean he was.’

Molly was about to agree when her phone rang, her heart beating faster when she saw who it was. ‘It’s Jack,’ she said, reaching to answer it.

‘Where the fuck are you?’ Jack said, before she’d a chance to say hello.

‘I’m with Amelia.’

There was a moment’s silence. ‘Are you completely out of your mind? The police called around to the house. When they didn’t find you there, they went to your office and when you weren’t there, they came here. Here! I suppose I should be grateful they weren’t in uniform and driving a damn squad car!’

Molly didn’t have a chance to speak, she let him rant on until his ire ran out. ‘I needed to speak to Amelia about what happened,’ she said into the first moment of silence.

‘Seems pretty clear to me.’ His voice arctic cold, each word filled with anger.

Molly gulped back the tears. ‘I was trying to find out how he knew where to find me.’

‘And did you, detective?’

Ignoring his sarcasm, she fought to keep her voice calm. ‘No, I didn’t, I’ve still no idea.’

‘Well, you’d better get your ass back home. They want to ask you more questions.’ And without waiting for a reply, he hung up.

Hurt, Molly dropped the phone on the table. ‘Jack’s pissed.’

When it rang again, seconds later, she gave Amelia a weak smile and felt a shiver of relief. He’d be ringing to apologise, to say he forgave her and that he’d stand by her through the mess she’d got herself embroiled in. Her relief was short-lived. It wasn’t Jack; the number displayed on her phone wasn’t familiar. She hesitated, her heart thumping, before picking it up to answer. ‘Hello?’