SEVEN

Still wrestling with the problem of what to do next, Daniel slept badly and awakened in a less than sunny frame of mind.

Mechanically, he went through the actions of making toast and coffee and feeding Taz before setting out for Tavistock through a windblown drizzle to collect the lorry and start work.

A dreary morning wasn’t improved when he stopped for his morning break and was on the receiving end of a call from Amanda.

‘Hello?’

‘I just wanted to let you know that Drew won’t be able to come to you next weekend. He’s busy.’ She flung the statement down the phone as if it were a challenge, which, in essence, Daniel recognized, it was. He kept his own voice even.

‘Why, what’s he doing?’ Next weekend was his weekend – his and Drew’s.

‘We’re taking him to Butlins for the weekend.’

‘We?’

‘Darren and I.’

Darren. The boyfriend, presumably. He would be called Darren, Daniel thought uncharitably.

‘Does Drew know about this?’ he asked. ‘He didn’t mention it when I spoke to him yesterday.’

‘He’s eight years old,’ Amanda pointed out. ‘He’s not old enough to make his own arrangements. I do that.’

‘He’s old enough to know what he’d like to do, surely?’

‘Oh God, I might have known you’d be awkward about it! He’ll enjoy it – there’s loads to do there for kids.’

Daniel sighed. ‘All right. I’ll see him the week after instead. Can I speak to him now?’

‘What for?’ she demanded suspiciously.

‘He’s my son – do I need a particular reason?’ Daniel was struggling to keep his temper. ‘I said I’d ring him, that’s all.’

‘You’re not going to try and put him off?’

‘Oh, for God’s sake, Amanda!’

‘Well, don’t go upsetting him again. He was moody for days after he saw you last week.’

‘That wasn’t my fault.’

‘It was because of you, though,’ she retorted. ‘I sometimes think it might be better if he didn’t see you so often. It’s very disruptive for him. I don’t want his schoolwork to suffer.’

‘Don’t even go there!’ Daniel warned. ‘If he’s upset because he thinks he wants to come and live with me full-time, how is seeing me less going to help? And while we’re on the subject, what’s this about moving back to Bristol?’

‘Oh, he told you about that, did he? It’s only an idea, nothing definite.’

‘No? Drew says you’ve been viewing houses. Is this part of your plan to separate Drew and me? Because it won’t bloody work, Amanda – I’ll tell you that now!’

‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ she protested. ‘I wouldn’t do that.’

‘No?’ At one time, he wouldn’t have believed it of her either, but now he wasn’t sure.

‘No! I was just looking, but can you blame me? I get lonely sometimes and all my friends are back there.’

‘But Drew doesn’t want to go, does he?’

‘He’d get used to it, and maybe it would take his mind off this stupid idea he’s got. I mean, it’s all right for you – you don’t have to live with his moods. He’s like a bear with a sore head.’

‘All right for me? I’d love to live with him – moods or not. Leaving wasn’t my choice, remember?’

‘It was your choice to meddle in what didn’t concern you and mess up a perfectly good career!’ she snapped straight back. ‘You didn’t stop to think how it would affect me or Drew, did you? I mean, at least if you’d been invalided out like George Collis, you’d have got a pension and we’d still have our friends.’

‘George has to walk with elbow crutches,’ Daniel exclaimed incredulously. ‘Is that what you’d have preferred for me? Anyway, you’ve still got your friends – you made sure of that when you cut me loose. Not one to let loyalty get in the way of your social life, were you?’

‘Loyalty to what?’ Amanda retorted. ‘To a husband who was never at home? Who put work before his wife and kid? I lost count of the number of things we had to cancel because you were “needed at work”. I swear you thought more of those bloody dogs than you did of me!’

‘Well, at least they didn’t desert me when the going got tough!’ Daniel was stung to reply. ‘I was a policeman when we met, Amanda. You knew what the job was.’

‘But it wasn’t like that to start with . . .’

He had to admit she had a point. In the last few years, general understaffing and an increase in officers on long-term sick leave had made the idea of regular hours a joke. His spell in the Dog Unit had been the best. Dogs don’t do overtime, and his shifts had been as regular as clockwork, though he couldn’t recall that it had made much difference to the atmosphere at home.

‘Look, Amanda, I’m working. Let’s leave it, shall we? We’re never going to agree. I’ll try Drew later on his mobile.’

Daniel tossed the phone down on the seat beside him, irritated that Amanda still had the power to rattle him, although realistically it was the power she had over his relationship with Drew that bothered him the most.

Aware of his mood, Taz sat up on his blanket in the footwell, flattening his ears sheepishly.

Daniel stroked the dog’s head, pulling at one dark, velvety ear.

‘It’s all right, lad. Woman trouble, that’s all.’

Daniel wasn’t normally a big fan of parties, but when Tamzin rang to invite him to one that evening, he allowed himself to be persuaded with comparatively little protest. Whether this was due to his restless mood after Amanda’s call or his reluctance to face Katya with no plan to offer, he didn’t know. However, the thought of an evening spent in Tamzin’s agreeable company, with good wine and food and no need to tax his brain with anything but the most banal conversation was suddenly quite tempting.

In the event, the idea that the party might be fun lasted all of ten minutes after their arrival, though the tedium of the prevailing conversation about Alexander somebody’s new yacht, Abigail’s new horse or the advantages of the Maldives over the Seychelles for one’s holiday was balanced by the culinary splendour of the buffet.

Drifting to his side after a couple of hours, Tamzin extricated Daniel from the verbal clutches of a mildly flirtatious middle-aged lady and drawing him away, on the pretext of wanting to introduce him to someone, whispered, ‘You’re a fraud, Mr Whelan. Skiing in Aspen on a policeman’s pay? I don’t believe you’ve ever been there!’

‘I didn’t precisely say I’d been there – just said it was one of the best places to go. I’ve never skied anywhere more exciting than the dry slope at the leisure centre when I was a kid,’ he confessed. ‘But that wasn’t what she wanted to hear.’

‘Oh, and do you always tell people what you think they want to hear?’ she enquired archly.

‘Anything for an easy life – you know me.’

‘Yeah, right!’ Tamzin said dryly. ‘Do you think we should make a move soon?’

‘If you’re ready . . . ?’

Ten minutes later, in the darkness of the Discovery, Tamzin glanced sideways at Daniel as she drove. ‘You made quite a hit. Everyone thought you were lovely.’

‘Well, I’ve been on my best behaviour.’

‘My aunt particularly liked you,’ Tamzin went on, ignoring his flippant reply. ‘She said she was glad I’d found someone nice at last.’

Daniel had a vague recollection of a brisk, wiry, fiftyish lady who’d asked him if he had ever ridden.

‘That doesn’t say a lot for your previous boyfriends,’ he joked, skipping lightly over the hint of permanency in her remark.

‘Well, some of them were a bit alternative,’ she admitted with a laugh in her voice. ‘I think I was rebelling against the Oxbridge set I’d grown up with. Did you go to uni?’

‘Nope. College and then straight to police training at eighteen.’

‘You knew what you wanted, then?’

‘My dad was a police officer. Still is, as far as I know.’

‘You’re not in touch with him?’

‘No. He walked out when I was eight. Drew’s age.’

‘Oh, I see.’ Tamzin hesitated, perhaps waiting for him to expand, but when he didn’t, she said, ‘I told Auntie Jane that you were only temporary, that you’d be moving on sooner or later. She was disappointed.’

Daniel’s heart sank. He sensed an emotional storm brewing. Why had he thought this would be an evening free of mental stress?

‘You will, won’t you?’ Tamzin said as the silence lengthened.

‘Eventually, I suppose. I haven’t made any plans as yet,’ Daniel hedged. ‘Besides, my options are limited. Police skills aren’t a lot of help in the job market.’

‘Well, you could always come and train racehorses with me,’ she suggested lightly. ‘And on that subject, I’m one rider short in the morning, so I’m banking on you helping me out.’

‘OK.’

‘Really?’ His placid agreement had clearly caught Tamzin by surprise.

‘Yes. Why not?’ he said.

‘No reason. That’s great,’ Tamzin said. Then, on a different note, ‘Oh, what’s going on here?’

They had topped a rise and could see lights out on the moor to their right and, in a roadside car park, a gathering of emergency vehicles, fluorescent markings glowing and blue lights flashing.

‘Someone lost or injured, perhaps,’ Daniel said. ‘There’s a chopper circling too.’

Tamzin slowed the Land Rover as they drew close to the scene of the activity, but a yellow-jacketed police officer waved them on.

‘Shall I ask him what’s going on?’ Tamzin said, continuing to brake, but Daniel shook his head.

‘I shouldn’t bother. He probably won’t tell you.’

His thoughts flashed back to the night he’d searched for Katya and her sister. If only he’d taken matters in his own hands and called the rescue services then, he thought, he wouldn’t be in the fix he was in now. But dwelling on if onlys was a destructive occupation – bitter experience had taught him that – and he’d had no real reason to distrust Patrescu at that first meeting; the doubts had come later.

Too late.

Sunday dawned bright and sparkling, the previous day’s dampness turning to hoar frost, which rimed every branch, twig and blade of grass, and each ice crystal was lifted to diamond brilliance by the rays of the rising sun.

Warm breath from the horses’ nostrils plumed and dissolved in the cold, dry air, and the rhythmic clatter of their hooves filled Daniel’s ears, as they filed up the lane towards the gallops.

Immediately in front of him, the chestnut mane of his mount sloped up to a pair of long, honest ears. Behind the saddle, a striped blanket kept the fine-skinned thoroughbred loins warm and the top of a silky tail twitched from side to side with each hind footfall.

The thought of what was to come filled Daniel with a buzz of anticipation. Tamzin had assured him that the chestnut, known around the stables as Rex, might pull a bit but would do nothing untoward, so Daniel could only hope he didn’t make a fool of himself by falling off in front of the other relaxed and capable-looking riders in the string.

Tamzin reined her bay in to drop back beside Rex. ‘How’s it going?’

‘Great, but completely different from anything I’ve ever ridden before. I mean, compared with Hilary’s trekking ponies, Rex could be a different species.’

‘Well, you know what they say, “horses for courses”. These guys would be pretty hopeless finding their way across Dartmoor. In fact, there was a thoroughbred had to be rescued from a bog last summer. Its rider was a visitor, staying with friends, and the horse had just blundered in. You’d never see a native pony making that mistake.’

‘I suppose not. How deep are the bogs?’

‘Oh, they vary. Some you could wade through; some are rumoured to be upwards of twenty feet deep. The bright-green ones are easy enough to spot, once you’ve been warned, though some of the others are more tricky, but the Dartmoor ponies know the signs, and Hilary knows the moors like the back of her hand. Now, here we are,’ she said, as they swung off the road into a large field which sloped up to meet the deep blue sky. ‘We’ll go in twos. You and I first, along the bottom and then up the far side to the top. Don’t worry, we’ll take it steady. Take a handful of mane and get your weight well forward when we set off, then just follow me and do what I do.’

She fell back to pass on her instructions to the other six riders as they entered the field, and then caught up with Daniel, who was discovering that Rex had woken up quite a bit as he felt the turf beneath his hooves. They moved into a trot, keeping the horses on a tight rein as they loosened their muscles. Daniel’s heart rate began to rise.

‘Ready?’ Tamzin asked and, at his nod, sent her mount into a canter, heading along the lower edge of the field toward the far boundary.

Daniel had just enough time to wind his fingers into Rex’s short mane before the chestnut shot away with a powerful thrust from behind the saddle that almost caught him napping. He threw his weight forward, standing in his stirrups, and tried to restrain Rex’s urge to gallop flat out.

‘Shall we move up a gear?’ Tamzin called after a hundred yards or so.

In response to Daniel’s nod, she eased her hands forward a few inches, giving her mount permission to accelerate. Mentally crossing himself, Daniel followed suit, gasping as the icy air began to whistle past his ears and sting his eyes to tears.

By the time they had reached the turn at the end of the field, Rex had caught Tamzin’s bay and they were galloping stride for stride, nostrils flaring as they exhaled sharp snorts of steam in time to the drumming of their hooves. Daniel felt like yelling aloud with the exhilaration of it. Thirty miles an hour might seem a snail’s pace in a car, but on the back of a horse, with the wind whipping past and the grass just a blur underfoot, it was real, raw speed.

For a moment or two, Rex headed the bay, but as they breasted the rise and began to gallop back along the ridge, Tamzin sent her horse forward again, and by the time they pulled up she had 20 or 30 yards on Daniel and Rex had slowed to a canter.

As Daniel brought the horse back to a trot and the euphoria began to ebb, a wave of tiredness washed over him and he became aware for the first time of an intense burning in the muscles of his legs and arms.

‘That was incredible!’ he exclaimed. ‘What a buzz! But I’m absolutely knackered.’

Tamzin laughed. ‘Well, we’ve got to wait for the others now, so you’ve got a chance to recover before we go on. I’m glad you enjoyed it.’

Standing up in her stirrups, she waved to the riders waiting below, and watching as the next two gathered their reins and set off along the lower hedge line, Daniel felt he could get to like the life of a racehorse trainer.

The phone call, just after lunch, jerked Daniel out of a haze of rare contentment. He had been making the fire up in Tamzin’s tiny lounge while she made them both coffee. He pulled his jacket towards him and retrieved his mobile from the inside pocket.

It was Hilary.

‘I’m sorry to bother you, Daniel, but it’s Katya. She’s in a bit of a state.’

‘Why? What’s happened?’

‘Well, I had to pop out at lunchtime, so I took her with me because she seemed a bit down – I hope that was all right? I didn’t think we were likely to run into anyone she knew.’

‘But you did.’

‘Well, in a way. Actually, we were on our way back when we got caught in a police roadblock. Apparently some poor girl has been found dead on the moor; we heard it on the news. A courting couple found her in one of the car parks late last night.’

That would explain the cluster of emergency vehicles he and Tamzin had seen, Daniel thought.

‘So what upset Kat? Did they ask questions?’

‘Only where we’d come from and where we were going, and had we used the road yesterday – which we hadn’t. No, what upset her is that she’s sure she recognized one of the policemen.’

‘She did, did she? Where from?’ Daniel’s mind switched up a gear.

‘She said he came to Moorside House to see Patrescu, though she didn’t know he was a policeman then.’

‘He didn’t recognize her?’

‘I don’t think so. I don’t think she’s ever actually met him.’

‘I don’t suppose you got his name?’ Daniel could hardly bear to hope.

‘No, I’m sorry. I feel a bit useless, but I can’t remember if he even told us his name and of course I didn’t realize it could be important until we’d driven on and Kat told me.’

‘That’s OK. No problem. Can you remember what he looked like?’

‘Well, quite stocky. Maybe late forties or early fifties. Going bald. Not much help, am I?’

‘Don’t worry.’ It could have been Naylor, but equally Hilary’s description probably covered half the officers in the Devon force.

‘Hang on. I think he was a sergeant,’ she said suddenly. ‘Yes, he was. Another officer came over and he called him “Sarge”.’

‘And what did the other one look like?’

‘Younger. He was pale and had gingery hair – you know, that gingery-blond colour – and really pale blue eyes.’

Bingo! Daniel thought. That sounded like Naylor’s sidekick, PC Innes, so it was a fair bet Naylor was their man.

‘Is Kat still upset? Do you want me to come over?’

‘Would you? She keeps asking when you’re coming again. When we first heard about the body, they were saying it was a girl and I think she immediately thought of Elena, but they’re now saying it’s a young woman, so she’s calmed down a bit.’

‘OK, I’ll come over. See you soon.’

He put the phone down on Tamzin’s coffee table just as she entered, carrying two mugs.

‘You’re honoured. This is real coffee, made with hot milk,’ she informed him. ‘Who was that? Did I hear you say you were going? Not before you drink this, I hope?’

‘Absolutely not. It was Hilary. Kat’s in a bit of a state about something. She wants me to go over, but there’s no frantic rush. By the way, I’ve found out what that business was about on the moor last night. A young couple looking for a spot for a clandestine bonk found a body instead. Something of a passion-killer, I imagine.’

Sitting next to him, Tamzin frowned. ‘Oh my God! How awful! Who was it?’

‘A young woman, apparently.’

‘But what happened? Do they know?’

‘Hilary didn’t know, but it’s bound to be on the news later.’

‘I guess so.’ She snuggled close, cupping her hands round her coffee mug.

There was a long silence.

‘You all right?’ Daniel asked.

‘Yeah, I was just thinking. I suppose you had to deal with stuff like that all the time. Dead people and such.’

‘Mm. Part of the job.’

‘So how do you cope? Doesn’t it ever get to you?’

‘Sometimes. Especially when it’s kids. But you can’t afford to go to pieces. The best thing you can do is focus on catching whoever’s responsible – if anyone is.’

‘You miss it, don’t you?’ Tamzin said, surprised. ‘Being a policeman, I mean.’

Daniel shrugged. ‘Sometimes.’

‘But you said the stress did get to you in the end . . .’

‘Yeah, it wasn’t the actual work so much as the people.’ He sat up, putting his half-empty mug down on the table. ‘Look, I think I’d better be on my way. Hilary did sound rather worried.’

Tamzin touched his arm. ‘I’m sorry. Have I gone somewhere I shouldn’t?’

‘No, you’re fine,’ he said. ‘But I do have to go. Thanks for this morning – with the horses – it was incredible.’

‘I’m glad you enjoyed it. Any time you want to do it again . . .’

‘I’d like that, but I’ve got a feeling it’s going to take me a day or two to get over this time,’ Daniel said, standing and stretching stiff muscles. He bent to kiss her. ‘I’ll call you.’

‘You do that.’

Hilary came out to meet Daniel as he parked the car.

‘Thanks for coming. I’m sorry, perhaps I shouldn’t have taken her out,’ she said. ‘But I had to go out myself, and she’s been so restless since the other night I didn’t like to leave her on her own.’

She looked so apologetic that Daniel was hit by a rush of guilt.

‘Oh God, I’m sorry. I’ve been taking you completely for granted and none of this is even your problem.’

‘It’s as much my problem as it is yours, as far as I can see,’ Hilary pointed out. ‘No one forced you to assume responsibility for Kat either – you chose to do that and I’m making that choice too. The poor kid needs someone on her side.’

‘You’re a very special woman, Hilary McEwen-Smith, do you know that?’

‘Yes, we’re both the cream of humanity,’ she returned dryly. ‘And now we’ve finished patting one another on the back, shall we get down to business? Any luck with your contacts? I’m just assuming that’s what you’ve been up to.’

‘None at all, I’m afraid. As far as my ex-colleagues at the Bristol Met are concerned, I’m a career-advancement leper.’

They were walking towards the house by now and Hilary stopped and turned towards him.

‘But why, Daniel? What happened?’

Daniel hesitated. ‘It’s a bit complicated.’

‘Well, I like to think I’m reasonably intelligent. Try me.’

He shook his head. ‘Please, Hilary. Just leave it, OK?’

She was clearly reluctant to do so, but, providentially, they were interrupted by the appearance of Katya in the doorway to the farmhouse.

‘Daniel!’

As he turned towards her, she broke into a run and threw herself at him, wrapping her arms round his back and resting her cheek against his chest.

Over her dark head, Daniel raised his eyebrows at Hilary, who shrugged. When he’d last spoken to Kat, he could hardly claim to have been flavour of the month with her. Perhaps his absence, be it only for a couple of days, had brought it home to her that with him lay her only real chance of getting her sister back, however unsuccessful his attempts thus far.

‘Where have you been?’ she demanded after a moment, stepping back to look at him. ‘Have you been back to the house?’

‘No. I’ve been trying to contact a friend who might be able to help.’ He noticed that Kat’s hair had been restyled from an untidy mop into a short and sassy bob. It suited her – made her look older and more sophisticated. She was also wearing some new clothes.

‘And can he?’ Hope sparkled for a moment in Katya’s eyes.

‘No. That is, I couldn’t speak to him. He’s in hospital.’ Daniel cravenly avoided the issue.

‘But that’s no good! Elena is in danger now – you said so yourself.’

‘I know. And that’s why I think it’s time we go to the authorities,’ Daniel said gently, starting to walk towards the house.

‘You mean the police.’

‘They’d have to be involved, yes.’

‘But you promised!’ Kat stayed where she was, catching his arm and forcing him to turn and look at her.

‘I promised I wouldn’t do it behind your back – and I won’t. I just have to make you see that it’s our only option.’

‘Look, I’ll leave you to it. I have hungry horses to see to,’ Hilary said. ‘But listen to him, Kat, please. He knows what he’s talking about. Trust him, OK?’

Katya followed Daniel into the house, where they drank tea – which he didn’t really want – and Kat obediently listened as he did his best to make her realize that they could do nothing on their own.

Her expression remained obdurate.

‘How can you tell me to trust your police when they are friends of that bastard Patrescu?’

How indeed? Daniel thought with sympathy. And who was he to urge trust in the authorities, with his bitter experience of betrayal at their hands?

‘Tell me about the man you saw earlier,’ Daniel said. ‘You say he came to the house?’

‘Yes.’

‘In his uniform?’

‘No. Just normal clothes.’

‘Are you sure it was him?’

‘Yes, I’m sure.’ Her confirmation was totally convincing in its simplicity.

‘Did you ever see him and Patrescu together? Did they seem to be friends?’

She shook her head. ‘No, I never saw them together. We only saw him come and go. Our room looked over the driveway and we used to watch from the window, Elena and me. Twice we saw him, but I didn’t know he was a policeman until this morning. He was on the television at lunchtime. On the news,’ she added.

‘Was he, indeed?’ Daniel looked at his watch. ‘There should be more news at six. I wouldn’t mind seeing that, but just at the moment I think we should go and see if Hilary needs a hand. By the way,’ he added, as they got to their feet, ‘who did your hair? Hilary?’

Kat laughed. A rare occurrence.

‘No. Hilary said if she cut it, I would end up looking like a horse! A lady came to the house to do Hilary’s and she did mine too.’ She tossed her head like an actress in a shampoo commercial. ‘It looks nice, yes?’

‘It looks very nice,’ Daniel agreed.

The body on Dartmoor dominated the local news that night, with a great deal of time being devoted to moody shots of the moor under a lowering sky, which suggested a certain artistic licence, as the day had been bright and clear. An Inspector Mike Rutledge was interviewed at length by a young reporter who managed to extract little of importance from him.

The matter also had a slot on the national news, but their reporter had got one over on his local counterpart by discovering that the young woman was thought to be in her mid-to late twenties, and that unconfirmed reports suggested that she might have died of a drug overdose combined with exposure.

Naylor and Innes appeared on screen for no more than a couple of seconds, but it was plenty of time for Daniel to confirm their identities.

‘I bet Inspector Rutledge would love to know what his sergeant gets up to when he’s off duty,’ Hilary commented.

‘Well, he’s not going to hear it from me,’ Daniel responded. ‘Been there, done that.’

‘Got the T-shirt?’ Hilary suggested.

‘There wasn’t one,’ he said without humour.

Katya said little during the meal that evening and went up to bed straight afterwards, complaining of a headache, leaving Hilary and Daniel drinking coffee in front of the wood-burning stove in the sitting room, where the chairs were more comfortable.

‘So, is now a good time to tell me about it?’ Hilary asked, after a long silence punctuated only by the popping and crackling of the fire.

Daniel didn’t answer, but neither did he pretend to misunderstand.

‘What’s the matter? Don’t you trust me?’

‘More than almost anyone I know,’ he assured her. ‘But it was all such a bloody mess . . .’

A log settled in the burner, sending a shower of sparks up the chimney, and Taz lifted his head enquiringly before settling back into his position at Daniel’s feet.

Daniel took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. To revisit that time would be to touch a raw place, like lifting the dressing on a broken blister. Didn’t he have nightmares enough without stirring up the memories afresh?

‘Come on, Daniel,’ she said gently, ‘it obviously still bothers you. Won’t you tell me? I’m a good listener and I want to understand. Why did you give up your career?’

‘I didn’t have a lot of choice,’ he said finally. ‘I went from being one of the lads to being the station pariah and it was compromising my work.’

Still watching the flames, Daniel began to tell his story for the very first time, and having started, the words flowed like pus from a lanced boil.

As Daniel eased himself out of the deep, saggy armchair shortly before eleven o’clock, it seemed as if there wasn’t a fibre of his body that wasn’t protesting. The physical effects of the morning’s ride, combined with lack of sleep, had left him aching and drained of energy.

‘Poor old man!’ Hilary exclaimed, seeing his grimace.

‘It’s no joking matter,’ Daniel said severely. ‘I may never walk properly again.’

She put her hand on his arm as he turned towards the door. ‘Daniel, you should tell Tamzin what you’ve told me, you know. She’d understand.’

‘Yeah, maybe one day.’

His reply sounded unconvincing, even to himself, and Hilary gave him a long look before saying, ‘Well, that’s up to you, of course, but anyway, thanks for trusting me. I know it was hard, and I suspect you haven’t told me everything, but that’s OK.’

‘Well . . . thanks for listening,’ he said with a touch of awkwardness. ‘And for not judging me.’

‘That’s ridiculous. What right do I have to judge you?’

Daniel gave her a half-smile. ‘Tell that to the people I worked with for ten years.’

The night was clear and cold, and Daniel drove fast, thinking of his bed and wishing the flat above the empty showroom had central heating.

It had been a long day, and after a short distance, a combination of the warmth of the heater and the relaxing strains of a classical music station on the car stereo began to induce a dangerous state of drowsiness. Well aware of the danger and its possible consequences, Daniel gave himself a mental shake, opened a window to the icy night air for a spell and searched for something more stimulating on the radio.

Arriving back at his flat, some fifteen minutes later, Daniel swung the car thankfully into the drive and had to brake hard to avoid ploughing into a green plastic wheelie bin that lay prostrate across his path. Groaning at the necessity of stirring his tender muscles to action once more, Daniel opened the car door and went to shift the bin to one side. If it was his own, he didn’t know what it was doing this far from the yard and could only imagine that bored kids must have dragged it round.

If Daniel’s conscious mind was dulled by tiredness, at least his subconscious was still in good order. As he bent to lay his hands on the smooth plastic of the bin, some slight sound behind him – just the displacement of a pebble, maybe – brought his survival instincts surging to the fore.

Without stopping to consider, he dived forward over the bin to hit the ground shoulder first and rolled, bringing the plastic container across his body as a shield.

A split second later, Daniel felt a heavy impact through the tough plastic as a knife, which had no doubt been intended to sink between his shoulder blades, hit the shiny surface and glanced sideways, its point lancing through the palm of his left hand.