‘I’m not giving up, at least not until you’ve actually spoken to him. He gave you that dongle for a reason and, anyway, I’m enjoying the challenge. Don’t stop me now. If you do I’ll go straight back on the fags.’

‘You really don’t have to, Grace, but if it makes you happy I can’t see the harm.’

‘So, will you get me as much personal information as you can on him?’

‘Yeah, I’ll see what I’ve got on file.’

‘Has he got a wife?’

‘Yeah, but they separated a while back.’

‘Well, why don’t you contact her? She might be able to tell you what’s going on and maybe she would know some of the passwords he uses.’

‘That’s a good idea, Grace. Maybe I will,’ I replied, knowing deep down that I wouldn’t.

I had divided the fish and chips onto two plates and kept them warm in the oven. We sat at the table eating the grub and drinking some cold lager. I told her about my visit with Satsuma. Her interest focused in on the bald man. She concluded that he was probably an overzealous debt collector and that Satsuma was likely a wrong ’un who had fallen behind on her rent.

‘Maybe I should offer to pay her rent? You don’t think he might be her boyfriend, do you?’ I asked.

‘I doubt it,’ she said, handing yet another clump of fish and chips down to Lassoo. ‘From what you’ve told me she’s about twenty-five years old and of an artistic bent, with a daft hairstyle and Doc Marten boots. A bit like Jane Brurier, I think you said. If you reckon he’s nearly forty and dresses like a car salesman, then I don’t think that passes a compatibility test.’

‘But he’s been there both times that I visited.’

‘Doesn’t mean anything. You would probably call round pretty often if you were owed money. Look, if you’re so worried, why didn’t you ask her?’

‘Dunno. Seems a bit intrusive, a bit forward. Maybe I don’t want to know. Do you think me and you are compatible?’

‘No,’ she said, placing her plate on the floor so Lassoo could finish it up. ‘But you and Lassoo are a good match. By the way, who the hell is Jane Brurier?’

‘I haven’t got a fucking clue.’

We sat in silence for a few beats, enjoying our cold beer and assessing each other’s faces. I always appreciated the thin lines above her top lip and around the sides of her mouth that revealed she had been a dedicated smoker in her past.

‘Why did you pack in smoking?’ I asked.

‘My doctor said I would go down the priority list for a hip replacement if I was a smoker,’ she replied.

‘Do you miss it?’