‘She could have changed her name, her entire identity. We need to find her as a matter of priority.’ Sasha lingered at the junction, because once she started driving again she wouldn’t be able to hear a word he said over the roar of the engine. ‘The DNA of a convicted murderer has been found at a crime scene, a woman who is seemingly fixated on her son. The more I think about it, the more I think we should advise Jeremy Weston to get out of town for a few days, until we find his mother.’

‘I called his house, but the housekeeper said they’d gone away for the weekend with his in-laws, she doesn’t know where.’

‘Well, there’s that.’

‘And he’s not answering his mobile. In the meantime, we’re getting the court transcripts, paperwork and interview tapes from Rachel Weston’s trial sent over. But some of that stuff is archived all over the place, so it’s going to take a few days. According to newspaper reports at the time, she had family in Cyprus, so there’s a chance she may have escaped there.’

It was possible, but Sasha didn’t think so. She suspected Rachel would stay close to her son. Watching him, maybe stalking him.

‘We’ve got to find her, Ajay,’ said Sasha, who was in half a mind to turn around and drive back to work.

‘Look, we’ve got everything covered at this end. Chill, eat nice food, drink wine, try to forget about it for a few hours, okay?’

‘Yes, you’re right,’ she told him reluctantly. ‘Have a good weekend, Ajay.’

She killed the call, and was about to release the handbrake and get moving when the phone rang again.

When she saw the call was from Kev, she asked excitedly, ‘How did the interview go?’

‘Don’t be angry with me,’ he said quickly. She could tell he was at a train station, Liverpool Street most probably; heard the boom of a tannoy, the clip-clop of feet on the concourse. ‘There’s been some kind of power outage.’

‘Which means what?’ she said. When a car pulled up behind her at the junction, she ignored it.

‘All the trains are severely delayed. It’s absolute chaos here.’

‘Get a cab,’ she said.

‘I’ll try. But there are thousands of people all trying to do the same thing.’

‘Kev, this is a one-night thing,’ she told him. The car behind beeped impatiently, and she waved it past, ignoring the rude gesture the driver gave her as he drew alongside.

‘We’ll do it again soon,’ he told her. ‘I promise.’

‘We can’t afford to do it again.’ She knew she sounded petulant, but she was almost there now, and pissed off that their night together was spoiled.