‘Most likely, yes,’ the pawnbroker says, quoting two prices, one sum for pawning and a sum almost three times as much for selling.

He could pawn it, of course, and try to pay back the money. But how realistic is that? Looking on the bright side, the Dalek scarcely has need for jewellery these days. Who is going to notice that she’s wearing a bracelet? Most of the residents are half blind or doolally. If she knew I was in trouble, she’d probably want me to have it, he says to himself. Most likely she won’t even notice it’s gone. And if it’s gone why shouldn’t it be completely gone, taken apart, melted down, removed from the world, not unlike its original owner in fact. He smiles at the existential elegance of the idea.

‘I’ll sell it then,’ he says, thinking now of the thug in the driveway.

Moments later he’s bouncing back down the stairs with a wedge of twenties in his pocket where the bracelet once sat. How easy was that? Remarkably quick and with none of the sadness, the tawdriness, the seediness he’d anticipated.

Out on the street the cloud has cleared and the morning sun has broken through. See, he thinks, everything is suddenly looking rather cheerier, even Lawrence Hill. He pops his car door open, clambers in, stations his phone in its bracket and keys on the engine. Mozart caresses his ears. All is well.

He is buckling his seatbelt when there comes a text from Mark Ratner. He reads and reads again.

Jessica Easton has killed herself.

Oh shit, not this, not now.

Chapter 29

Nevis

It’s late morning and Nevis needs coffee, though that probably means waking up Tash, who is crashed out on the sofa in the living room. There came a point last night when neither of them could stay awake any longer but they each didn’t want to be alone. She offered Satnam’s empty bedroom but Tash rejected the idea, saying the space felt creepy. Nevis only had a single bed so it had to be the sofa.