At the head of the table, as if he was prime minister, sat Dr Liam Macdowall, chatting away to the alcohol counsellor like they were old pals. This felt more like a marketing meeting than a pre-release, but Mary would put things right. As she poured herself some water from the bottle on the table, she imagined she was in that car again, looking at a killer, and not in a Portakabin, looking at a smile.

Mary had ensured she’d chair the meeting and went about it efficiently. ‘Before we introduce ourselves, I want to remind everyone that this is a pre-release meeting for Mr Macdowall.’ She deliberately said Mr, hoping he’d correct her with ‘Hmm, hmm, it’s Dr’.

Instead, he said: ‘Liam’s fine.’

He murdered his wife. Remember the car, remember he got out. ‘This meeting is not about the release of your book. This meeting’s about how to manage the likely risk you present to the community. With very high-risk offenders like you, Liam, it’s my job to imagine the worst case scenario, and to work backwards to make sure it never happens.’

‘And that is?’ The lawyer wore a purple, velvet designer jacket with gold trim, a red-and-orange checked tie, pink Argyll socks and fabulous brown cowboy boots. A clever distraction Mary would never fall for.

‘That Mr Macdowall murders another woman he’s close to.’ That shut him up, the dick; she’d ask him where he got the boots after. ‘To get things going, as you can see in my home background report, I don’t approve of your proposed address. You can’t live back at the family house, with your daughter.’

‘Such bullshit,’ Holly said.

Liam reached over and pressed a calming hand onto his daughter’s, but she was furious. ‘I told you when you visited for that report that I am not at risk. You think Dad’ll hurt me? I saw what Mum did to him, I was there all those years.’ Holly held up the report and addressed the rest of them. ‘Do you know what she said to me when she visited for this “assessment”? She said: “Your dad’s a dangerous misogynist, he hates women so much he kills them. Get him out of your life.”’

Mary might have pulled the girl up on her inaccurate quotations if she hadn’t had the gist spot on. But what exactly had she said at the home visit? She couldn’t remember. The girl must have made her overheat, and it was happening again now.