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“Maybe, but you have to admit it’s another black mark against Lytton.”

He nodded. “I agree, it’s damaging – if it’s true – but I stand by what I said earlier. Give me time, Esther, and I’ll crack this case. I’ve got Reed looking into a new area of possibility right now.”

“Good. Show me.”

She followed him down to the SID, where Reed was running through CCTV footage of the drone station on the smartwall.

Alex was seated where Josiah had left him, that blank, inscrutable mask back on his face.

Josiah wished he knew what the IS was hiding.

He wasn’t happy about what he’d learned from Mead, but he refused to believe that this man, who’d comforted him so gently during his breakdown in the night, had lied to him.

Alex was innocent, and he intended to prove it.

“How are we doing?” he asked Reed.

“Well… I found this.” Reed pointed at the smartwall.

“It’s the drone pick-up point the parcel containing the gun was sent from – not great quality, because they’re a small outfit, but I found this.

” He froze the grainy footage as a woman placed a small parcel in the pick-up locker.

“The parcel is the correct size to be the one containing the gun,” he said.

“We haven’t found any images that are as close a match as this. ”

“Can you get a decent frame of her?” Josiah asked, leaning in close to study her. She looked young and slim, but her anorak hood obscured her hair and part of her face.

“I can get my team to work on it,” Reed said.

“Good – do that. Let’s see if we can track her down.

She’s wearing gloves, which she obviously would if she wanted to hide her prints,” Josiah said, still studying the image.

“Good work, Cam. I love it when we get a break like this.” He rubbed his hands together. “This is good. Just like old times.”

“What’s got into him, Director Lomax?” Reed asked, shaking his head. “I’ve never seen him like this before.”

“I have.” Esther shot him a wry smile and reached out to touch his arm. “It’s good to have you back, Joe. I’d forgotten… It’s been a long time.”

“It’s good to be back.” He sat down at his desk, feeling peckish.

His hand went to his jacket pocket before he realised he’d forgotten to refill his chocolate stash and bring it with him this morning…

so he was surprised when his hand closed around the little silver box.

He drew it out and opened it, finding two dark chocolates nestled inside.

He glanced at Alex, who said nothing but gave him the most serene of smiles.

Smiling back, he placed a chocolate caramel in his mouth, taking a moment to tune out and savour the rich, smooth taste.

Reed’s team sent back a tidied-up version of the image an hour later. Reed set off with it immediately to doorstep the area and see if they could trace their mystery poster.

When they were alone, Josiah glanced at his IS. “Do you recognise this woman?” he asked, pointing at the cleaned-up still.

Alex gazed at the image on the smartwall closely, then shook his head. “I’ve never seen her before.”

“You’re sure?”

“Absolutely. I don’t know her,” Alex said decisively.

“Fine. You definitely recognised Jeffrey Mead earlier, though.”

“Yes.”

“What do you think of him?”

Alex made a face. “He’s a parasite. He leeched off Elliot, so I assumed he had something on him – probably relating to drugs – which explained why Elliot kept him around.”

“That’s pretty much what I thought.”

“They became friends, though – they were close enough that Elliot made him the executor of his will.” Alex grimaced.

“Although, Elliot didn’t have many friends, really.

He had a lot of fake ones – all those people at his parties – but not many who I’d call real friends.

Maybe Mead was as good as it got for Elliot. ”

“It seems that way. Did you sleep with Mead?” Josiah asked.

“Yes,” Alex replied unflinchingly. “Several times. Elliot insisted.”

“Mead said you once asked him some questions about homicide investigation procedures.” Josiah gazed steadily at Alex.

Alex met his gaze unblinkingly. “I probably did. I tried to make conversation, to be sociable and interesting to those I was supposed to entertain. It was part of my Belvedere training.”

“Mead doesn’t work homicides.”

Alex shrugged. “I didn’t know that then. ”

Josiah sat back in his chair, studying him thoughtfully. “He also said you asked him a lot of questions about me.”

Alex grinned. “I expect I did. I told you, I’ve read a lot of articles about you. Indies tend to take an interest in someone called the ‘indiehunter’ – and you were all over the news at the time.”

As always, he had an answer for everything and always sounded so plausible. Yet Josiah never felt he was getting the whole truth. He decided to let it go – for now.

“Lunch?” he suggested, glancing at his watch. “I could order hachée?”

“Or we could have a sandwich,” Alex countered.

“Fine.” Josiah was amused by the many ways Alex found to avoid eating hachée. On his first night at his house, Alex had professed to love the stuff, but Josiah was rapidly coming to the conclusion that was a lie. How many more lies was Alex telling?

Josiah bought them each a sandwich from the canteen, then turned his attention to examining Dacre’s holochat history in search of clues.

It revealed him to be every inch the gossipy, overgrown child that the investigation had so far revealed, but he couldn’t find a trace of any offers to buy Alex. “You must be bored,” he said after a couple of hours, glancing up from his work to find his IS drawing on a piece of paper.

“I’m fine,” Alex said with a smile.

Turning the paper around, Josiah gazed at the drawings. They were deft, elegant pictures by someone with clear talent. He suddenly remembered something Noah Lytton had said about how he hoped that Alex could still see beauty in the world.

“They’re good,” he said, wondering what it was like for an artist to be denied an opportunity to draw and paint.

For years, Alex had been used by his houders as some kind of bartering chip, his attractive body always offered up as the prize, as if that was the sum of the man and all his other skills were irrelevant.

“Here.” He handed Alex a cashcard. “Buy yourself some proper art materials. Get them delivered to the house this evening.”

Alex gave him a startled look. “Do you mean it?”

“Yes. Spend whatever you like. Just buy whatever you need to create whatever it is you want to create.” Josiah waved a vague hand in the air.

Alex shot him a smile that was so completely heartfelt it took his breath away. He reddened and turned back to his work.

Reed called at 7p.m., looking cold and miserable. “No luck so far,” he said. “I’ve shown the pic around, but nobody recognises her.”

“Fine. Call it off for now and go back tomorrow morning,” Josiah instructed.

“Okay. Thanks,” Reed said gratefully. “Sarah promised me macaroni cheese this evening, so I don’t want to miss that – it’s my favourite.”

“Sounds good.” Josiah moved his neck to one side until it made a satisfying crack. “I’m going to head off, too. We’ll start again tomorrow. And Cam? Good work today.”

Reed gave a surprised smile at the unexpected praise; Josiah grinned back and ended the call.

“Let’s go home,” he said to Alex, getting up and reaching for his jacket. “What’s your favourite food?” he asked as they walked. “And don’t say hachée, because I won’t believe you.”

“Fish and chips.”

“Then let’s get some on the way home.”

“Great. You know, I was thinking…” Alex paused, and Josiah stopped to look at him.

“Yes?”

“That thing… the thing I said I had to tell you…”

“The thing that will make me angry, or upset, or both?” Josiah asked.

“Yes.” Alex nodded slowly. “That thing.”

“Well?”

Alex took a deep breath. “I’ll tell you tonight,” he said. “After dinner.”