‘This is the second time I’ve worked with him. He’s OK. I did Macbeth with him in Yorkshire.’

‘What did you play?’

‘There were only six of us in the cast. I played Lady Macbeth, Lady Macduff, Fleance, the Porter and all three witches.’

‘Was that a good experience?’

‘Not really. It never stopped raining and nobody came.’

‘This is your ten-minute call. Ten minutes to curtain up. Thank you.’

‘There’s one thing I don’t quite understand.’ Hawthorne spoke softly … always a dangerous sign. ‘Where exactly did you find the review?’

‘It was on my phone.’

‘That’s not what I mean.’ He looked at her sadly. ‘I’ve searched the internet and it’s not there. It’s not anywhere. And when you think about it, it doesn’t make much sense, does it. Why would Harriet Throsby have posted her review on social media if she was being paid by the Sunday Times? They’ve got a paywall. They wouldn’t want it leaking out. The only way you could have read what she’d written was if you’d had access to her computer.’ He paused. ‘Or knew someone who did.’

There was a pause. For the first time, Sky looked vulnerable.

‘You’re wrong,’ she said. ‘There was a website …’

‘What website?’

‘I didn’t look.’

Another pause. Hawthorne waited. Sky said nothing.

‘I think you need to remember that this is a murder investigation,’ he reminded her. As always, he leaned heavily on the first part of the word ‘murder’, as if he was relishing it. ‘You can explain yourself to me or you can talk to the police. It’s your choice.’

‘I’m not talking to you.’

Hawthorne smiled. ‘Then we’ll do it the other way. I’ll put you in touch with Cara Grunshaw. It may not work out too well for you, though. Obstructing a murder investigation is never a good idea. I hope you’ve got an understudy ready to take over your part. You can go to prison for that.’

He got up, as if to leave.

‘Wait,’ Sky said. I could see her weighing up her options. It didn’t take her long to realise that she didn’t have any. ‘Olivia sent it to me,’ she said.

‘Harriet’s daughter!’ I muttered.

‘Yes.’

Hawthorne sat down again. ‘Why would she do that? Do the two of you know each other?’

Sky’s shoulders slumped. ‘We’ve met a couple of times.’

‘Where?’

‘The first time was at the Barbican Theatre. It was a production of The Crucible. As usual, Harriet barged her way into the first-night party. Why did she do that? She must have known that nobody wanted her there. Olivia was dragged along too. I could see she was embarrassed. We got talking and we sort of hit it off. We had a lot in common.’

‘Like what?’

‘Well, a mother we couldn’t stand, for a start. A stepmother in my case. If you want to make friends with someone, that’s a good place to begin. We kept in touch on Facebook. We met up for a drink a couple of times. It was no big deal. I didn’t even ask her to send me that review. She just thought I’d like to see it.’