Jessica put the car in first gear and gently pulled away from the junction. ‘Me too but she’s all too real. She’s sort of normal as well. You know, two arms, two legs, one head, not mentally impaired. Normal. Christ knows what she sees in Dave.’ The two women exchanged a glance. ‘What does it feel like?’ Jessica added.

‘What?’

‘I don’t know . . . having something inside of you.’

DC Diamond cackled. ‘I didn’t realise you were that shy.’

Jessica snorted, realising what she’d said. ‘Not like that. I mean the baby. What does it feel like?’

Out of the corner of her eye, Jessica saw her colleague put a hand on her stomach.

‘I don’t know. It just feels . . . right. Like it’s meant to be there. Did I show you the first scan photo we got?’

‘Yeah, it sort of looked like a pean . . .’ Jessica tailed off before finishing the sentence.

Izzy sounded part-amused, part-offended. ‘Were you going to say “peanut”?’

‘No.’

‘Penis?’

Jessica laughed again. ‘Definitely not.’

‘You know, out of you and Dave, I think it’s getting to the point where he’s the mature one.’

‘Sod off, is he.’

‘Okay, enough about my unborn child that apparently looks like a peanut. What’s going on with you?’

‘How do you mean?’

‘Dave reckoned you were seeing his friend, that magician guy.’

Jessica wasn’t too pleased at people gossiping about her but tried to hide it. ‘Hugo? No, we’re just mates. He comes round and cooks for me every week or two.’

‘“Cooks”? Is that what you’re calling it nowadays?’

‘Get out, he’s just a mate. Anyway, where’s this house we’re going to?’

‘Ooh, changing the subject, very suspicious.’

Jessica was glad she had taken Izzy with her. She wouldn’t have admitted it if anyone had asked but the image of Isaac Hutchings had stayed with her and she had struggled to sleep the previous night. She tried not to think too much about her own health but couldn’t avoid the fact that her ability to sleep deteriorated significantly each time she was involved with a serious case. Trying to have normal conversations with people like Izzy was something that allowed her to feel as if her life wasn’t being overtaken by the job.

After a little more teasing, they reached the address where the black car had been stolen from. Jessica had read the report and knew the car had been taken from a driveway but it seemed sensible to go back over the details now the vehicle was part of a murder investigation.

She parked on the road outside the property, climbing out to feel yet more drizzle. As Jessica scanned the surroundings, she could almost still feel the clingy dampness from the day before when she had been soaked.

When Jessica had started in the force and worked in uniform, car crime had been fairly common. That had been around a decade ago when stereos were easier to steal and provided a quick chunk of money for addicts needing a fix. With improved security devices, cars had not only become harder to break into and pull apart – but also tougher to actually steal. Vehicle theft had significantly decreased and most instances these days meant an owner had left the car unlocked. The area they were in wasn’t a high-crime district at all. It wasn’t quite an idyllic paradise but most of the houses were well kept with neatly trimmed lawns and Jessica knew a car being stolen from a driveway would be a rarity.

She didn’t need to check to remember the name of the person whose car had been taken because she had been so taken with ‘Daisy Peters’ on the front of the report. Without meeting her, Jessica thought the name conjured thoughts of summer meadows and sunshine which perhaps wasn’t quite an accurate picture given the weather.

The woman’s driveway was clear, backing onto a closed bright white garage door. A narrow pathway ran along the tarmac, separating it from a small patch of grass. Every property on the estate looked the same.

Izzy made her way around the car and Jessica resisted the urge to ask if she was all right. She herself had no particular wish for a baby or even a husband, but she figured the last thing she would want if she were pregnant was someone asking her every five minutes if she was okay.

They cut across the drive and reached a white double-glazed door next to a bay window that jutted out into the front garden. Jessica went to ring the doorbell but, before she could, the door swung open and a woman with short blonde hair stood in front of them. ‘I saw you through the window,’ she said. ‘Come on in, the kettle’s already on. I’m Daisy.’

Jessica made sure she wiped her feet as, even from the doorway, it was clear the interior of the house was incredibly neat. The woman led them along a short hallway into a living room completely free of clutter. There was a computer desk at one end, with a sofa and two armchairs at the other facing a television. Daisy asked if they wanted tea and, after receiving two positive replies, left the room.

Izzy blew out through her teeth. ‘If she does her own cleaning, she can come round mine any time.’

Jessica nodded in agreement. ‘Clean people always creep me out.’

‘Why?’

‘I don’t know, I guess I just think it’s weird.’

‘What, tidying up?’ Izzy again seemed part-puzzled, part-bemused.

‘Maybe, I don’t know.’

Jessica used the time to take in the room. It wasn’t that Daisy was a suspect but she had found over the years that a lot could be learned simply by watching, or looking at family photos of graduations or weddings. The walls of this house were completely free from decoration, except for an analogue clock hung above the flat television that was sitting on a pine cabinet.

‘What do you reckon?’ Jessica asked in a loud whisper. She was fairly confident of her own conclusions but wanted to know what her colleague thought.

Diamond was as driven as anyone Jessica had met and she knew the constable wanted to be as good at her job as she could be. For now it was a guessing game but the red-haired woman played along. ‘Single?’ Jessica nodded to indicate she agreed. ‘Clean freak, obviously.’

‘Why, though?’

The constable screwed up her face slightly. ‘I don’t know. Parents?’

‘I reckon it’s rented. No photos, no real furniture.’ Jessica pointed towards the computer desk. ‘I think she works from here too. Maybe she’s a rep or something?’

Izzy shrugged. ‘Does that matter?’

‘Maybe. We don’t know who the driver of her stolen car is – or even if he was the one who took it. If whoever it was knew the area, or lived locally themselves, they might have noticed a single woman on her own moving into a house. The report said the car was taken from her driveway.’

Daisy interrupted as she returned carrying three mugs, which she put on the coffee table before sitting in an armchair opposite the sofa both detectives were on. She smiled but seemed a little nervous.

‘I know my car was in an accident yesterday because someone called,’ she said. ‘I saw the photos on the Internet and I’ve been talking to the insurance company. They’re sorting me out with a courtesy car but I’m not really sure what I can help you with . . .’

News about what they had found in the car’s boot had been kept quiet and Jessica wasn’t about to give anything away.

‘We’d like to go back over the details you’ve already given,’ Jessica said. ‘I know you’ve already told someone about it but we might have a few different questions.’ Daisy cradled her mug, shrugging as if to say it wasn’t a problem so Jessica continued: ‘Can you tell us what exactly happened?’

Daisy took a drink of her tea then put it down on the table. She looked slightly embarrassed as she started to talk. ‘I know it sounds stupid now but, at the time, I didn’t think anything of it. Basically, I used to lose my keys all the time. They’d show up everywhere: in the fridge, under chairs, in my shoes, all over. So I got this key-rack thing and hung it in the hallway. It meant that I couldn’t walk through the front door without seeing it. Every time I got home, I’d see the rack and hang my keys up.’