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‘Bloody hell, that was close,’ Poe said. He was relieved and then he was angry. He unlocked his seatbelt and jumped out of the car. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing? I could have sent you flying over my windshield!’

Alice looked over his shoulder. ‘Not here,’ she said.

She walked past him and climbed into the back. Linus bunched up to make room. Bradshaw turned in her seat to look at her, then turned back to Poe. She shrugged.

‘Fine,’ Poe said to himself. He got back in the driver’s seat and said, ‘Where to?’

‘Anywhere.’

Until they were out of the village, Alice’s eyes were skittish, darting around as if she were a tweaker. Poe took the time to compose the first of what he was sure would be many questions. He adjusted the rear-view until he could see her clearly. Alice didn’t appear to be mad any more. She wore standard fell-walking garb – light fleece, cotton trousers and walking boots. Her hair was tucked under a long-billed baseball cap. When she glanced down her face was completely hidden. She looked like a primary-school teacher on a long weekend. She could have walked into any shop or pub in Keswick and no one would have given her a second look.

She saw him watching her. ‘I wear two skins,’ she explained. ‘Mad Alice gets me into the Children of Job and Tourist Alice’ – she gestured at her outfit – ‘gets me everywhere else.’

‘It was you who left the note under my windscreen wiper,’ Poe said.

‘It was.’

‘Who are you? And more importantly, why are you cowering in the back of my car like we’re smuggling you out of North Korea?’

‘I’m Alice Symonds,’ she said.

She said her name like Poe should recognise it, and the weird thing was he did. It was a name from his past. He got the feeling the name was a test, one he had to pass before he could advance to the next level. He thought it through logically. He’d never met Alice before, so she hadn’t been a witness or a suspect in one of his cases. But she thought he should know her name and she’d been hanging around Eve Bowman’s house. Had she been waiting for them or watching Eve? It didn’t matter if it was A or B; both answers led back to Bethany Bowman and Cornelius Green. And although he hadn’t been part of the original investigation, he had read the file. He glanced in the mirror again. Tried to put an age on her. Bethany had been fourteen when she ran away from home and if Poe were any judge, sixteen years ago Alice would have been roughly the same age. Poe remembered from where he knew the name Alice Symonds.

‘You were Bethany’s best friend,’ he said.

‘Yes, I was,’ Alice replied. ‘And we need to talk.’