Lolly clicked open a video file on her desktop and the image expanded across the screen: the interior of the Westcliff restaurant where Davey Jenkins said he was dining at the time of Andrew Dean’s death.

‘He was there alright. He had a meal with his mates and paid for it, and it’s all on CCTV.’

They sat and watched the footage taken from a camera high on the ceiling. Jenkins was sitting eating a meal on the far side of the room with four friends, Stephen Gosling included. There didn’t look to be much in the way of sparkling conversation; the meal progressed in virtual silence. Sasha and Lolly watched Gosling pick up some ribs with his fingers.

‘He could have paid for someone else to do it,’ said Lolly. ‘It could be a contract killing.’

‘But then why come all the way to the scene of the crime, when he could be two hundred miles away in Cardiff while the deed is done.’ They watched the men pass the salt shaker around the table, and because no other question occurred to her, Sasha asked, ‘What did Jenkins have?’

‘According to the restaurant bill, plaice and chips and three pints of Stella. I’ve been there, actually, they do a decent chicken burger.’

‘Very good.’ Sasha dug her heels into the floor, ready to roll her chair back to her desk, but Lolly touched her arm.

‘Wait a minute, Sash, you’ll want to see this.’

A moment later, a small square of light flashed on the table beside Jenkins – a text arriving on his phone – and he looked down at it, then climbed out of his chair.

‘Where’s he going, to the toilet?’

‘Man of his age, it’s a wonder he lasted that long,’ said Ajay, standing behind them.

‘He went to the loo twice, earlier,’ Lolly told him.

She closed the file and opened another. This time the CCTV came from a camera positioned above the door outside the restaurant, where the light was murkier. They saw a small sliver of the car park. Davey Jenkins came out and stood smoking at the edge of the frame, as other customers went in and out. When he’d finished, he ground the fag beneath his foot, and waited with his hands in his pockets.

‘Why doesn’t he go back in?’

Lolly pointed at the screen. ‘Wait for it.’