Freya trusts Mina. For a moment, she considers it. Unburdening herself of the events eight months ago in that grubby unmarked police car. Telling her all about Jonathan, and Amy Miller, and what she did. She knows she would instantly feel better, but she also knows that she couldn’t put that burden on Mina. As a police detective, Mina would be in an impossible position, between the law and her friend, and that can’t happen.

Freya shakes her head. ‘It’s just… it all got a bit much for a moment, that’s all.’

Mina looks at her sternly. ‘I didn’t want to say anything before, but you haven’t been your normal self since I’ve been back. I know we didn’t see each other much when I was on mat leave, and that’s my fault—’

‘No! Mina. Absolutely not—’

‘It is. I should have made more of an effort to see you. But I’m here now. You know I’d do anything for you, right, Frey?’

Freya nods gratefully. ‘I know. Thank you.’

The phone rings next to them. They look at the screen. Josh.

‘Oh, for fuck’s sake,’ Mina grumbles. ‘And now his coffee’s gone cold, so we won’t even be able to placate him with that.’

Freya forces a laugh. ‘Let’s go.’

Mina starts the engine. She turns to look at her one last time. ‘But talk to someone, Freya, please?’ she says.

Freya drinks her coffee in silence as they drive the rest of the way to the station. Mina’s right. She needs to talk to someone. And there’s only one person who will understand.

24

‘I know you don’t want to hear it, but the evidence is clear.’

DI Jo Craig has acquiesced to Robin’s demand to drive, but he’s now regretting it – it’s only given her more opportunity to talk about the case. She has a file open in her lap in the passenger seat and is flicking through the pages.

‘You’re right, I don’t want to hear it,’ Robin mutters.

‘The warrant for his medical records finally came through yesterday, and nothing here contradicts what we’ve found. Blood alcohol was zero when his blood was taken at the hospital, which means nothing, because he’d been in that van for over twelve hours by that point.’

‘Any trace of the LSD?’

Craig flicks again. ‘No, none. And no sign of two-oxo-three-hydroxy-LSD, which means he hadn’t taken any for up to five days.’

Robin’s familiar with the long chemical name. He knows that LSD stays in the blood for up to eight hours, so might have worn off while Finn was locked in the van, but the major metabolite of the drug, the two-oxo-whatsit, sticks around for longer in the urine.

So the LSD couldn’t explain his confusion or current state. And couldn’t be used as a defence for the murder.