‘Stop,’ said Hopkins. ‘If you have specific questions relating to the crime, Dr Klein can answer them.’

‘Can you tell me something about Miles Thornton?’

Frieda Klein frowned and leaned forward slightly. ‘Miles? Has he been found?’

‘No.’ Bryant spoke for the first time. ‘But you reported him missing, and I understand that he was also behaving violently towards you.’

Tanya Hopkins started to speak but Frieda turned towards her. ‘It’s all right,’ she said. ‘I know that you want to protect me from myself, but I want to answer these questions. Yes, I reported Miles missing. Yes, he could be violent and chaotic in his behaviour and was sometimes psychotic.’

‘So,’ said Hussein, ‘now we have not one but two violent men turning on you in the past few weeks. One of whom has gone missing and one of whom has been killed.’

‘That’s enough.’ Tanya Hopkins rose and looked down at Frieda, expecting her to do the same.

‘It probably is nearly enough,’ she agreed, staying put. ‘But I want to say that Miles is an unstable young man who might be a danger to others, but above all to himself. That’s why I reported him missing. I’m sorry he hasn’t been found or returned.’ For the first time, she seemed to relax, speaking without her cool formality. ‘As a matter of fact, it was him I was expecting to find in the morgue.’

‘Miles Thornton?’ Hussein remembered the quiver that had passed over Frieda Klein’s face.

‘Yes. Not Sandy.’

‘I see.’

‘He felt I had betrayed him when I was involved in having him sectioned some months ago. In a way, of course, I had. And, of course, in a way I had betrayed Sandy as well. He must have thought me heartlessly cruel. Sometimes I think that of myself.’

Tanya Hopkins sat down heavily again. ‘I don’t think we need to continue this particular line.’

‘Dr Klein, would you give us permission to search your house?’

‘My house?’ A look of distress momentarily tightened her face. ‘What for?’ Hussein waited impassively. ‘No, I don’t think so. If you want to go through all my private possessions, I think you should get a search warrant.’

‘Very well.’

‘Now we really are going.’ Tanya Hopkins rose for a second time and Frieda Klein also stood. She gazed first at Hussein and then at Bryant.

‘You’re looking in the wrong direction,’ she said. ‘And all the time you’re doing that, the man who actually killed Sandy is allowed to get away with it.’

‘You mean Dean Reeve.’

‘Yes. I mean Dean Reeve. You seem to be a woman who wouldn’t accept other people’s versions of the truth. Follow up what I’ve said.’

‘Dr Klein –’

‘I know that patient tone of voice. Please don’t Dr Klein me. You’ve already decided that I’m deluded.’

‘You’re worse than deluded. You’re obstructive.’

‘You mean about the search warrant? All right.’ She shrugged wearily. ‘Search my house. Where do I sign?’

‘Sometimes,’ said Tanya Hopkins, taking her by the elbow and pulling her towards the door, ‘a client can be their own worst enemy. We are now leaving.’

‘Dr Klein?’

Frieda, Hussein and Tanya Hopkins all looked round. It was the man leaning against the wall.

‘Yes?’ said Frieda.

‘Can I ask a question?’ he said.

‘Who are you?’ Frieda asked. ‘I have no idea why you’re here.’

The man blinked again. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he said. ‘I didn’t introduce myself. My name’s Levin. Walter Levin.’

‘I mean, who are you?’

‘I’m nothing to do with the investigation. I’m on secondment from the Home Office. It’s a bit difficult to explain.’

‘Any questions need to go through me,’ said Tanya Hopkins.

‘It’s not about this case.’ Levin straightened himself. ‘I’ve been reading your file.’ He beamed. ‘Fascinating stuff. Absolutely fascinating. Gosh. About the case of that girl you helped find. In the house in Croydon.’

‘Please.’ Hussein was exasperated. ‘We’re in the middle of an investigation.’

‘It’s all right.’ Frieda looked at him properly for the first time, taking in his smiling face and his sharp eyes. ‘What do you want to know?’

‘I was curious,’ he said. ‘It wasn’t clear from the case file what aroused your suspicion in the first place.’

Frieda thought for a moment. It all felt so long ago, as if it had happened to someone else.

‘A patient came to see me. He turned out to be a fake. It was part of a newspaper story. But he told me a story about cutting his father’s hair as a child. That sounded strange and there was something real about it. I wanted to discover where that story came from. That’s all.’

‘Golly,’ said Levin, vaguely.

‘Is that what you came to ask?’ said Hussein. ‘About a two-year-old investigation?’

‘No. I wanted to see Dr Klein in person,’ said Levin. ‘So fascinating, you know.’

‘What for?’ said Hussein. ‘What are you doing here, aside from being fascinated?’

Levin didn’t answer. He just looked at Frieda with an expression of puzzlement. ‘I’m awfully sorry about all this,’ he said.

‘I’m sorry too,’ said Frieda.

8

Hussein had been involved in many searches and she had become familiar with the different ways that suspects behaved. Sometimes they were angry, sometimes upset, even traumatized. Rummaging through drawers in front of them could feel like a constant, insistent, repeated violation. Sometimes the suspect accompanied her around the property, telling her about it, as if she were a prospective buyer.

Frieda Klein was different. As the officers moved around her house, through to the kitchen, upstairs, opening cupboards and drawers, she just sat in her living room, playing through a chess game on the little table with an air of deep concentration that surely must have been fake. Hussein looked at her. Was she in shock, or angry, or in denial, or stubborn, or sulking? Once Klein looked up and caught her eye and Hussein felt that she was looking right through her.

There was a thumping sound, someone coming down the stairs two at a time. Bryant came into the room and placed something on the table. Hussein saw that it was a leather wallet.

‘We found that upstairs,’ said Bryant. ‘It was in a clothes drawer. At the bottom, wrapped in a T-shirt. I’ll give you one guess who it belonged to.’

Hussein looked at Klein. She couldn’t see any hint of shock or surprise or concern. ‘Is it yours?’

‘No.’

‘Do you know whose is it?’

‘No.’

Then why do you have it? And why do you keep it hidden?’

‘I’ve never seen it before.’

‘How did it get there?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Shall we look inside?’ continued Hussein. She thought that she should be feeling triumph.

Frieda looked at her with her dark eyes burning and didn’t say anything.

Hussein snapped on her rubber gloves and Bryant handed her the wallet. He was grinning broadly. She opened it up.

‘No money,’ she said. ‘No credit cards. But several membership cards.’ She pulled one out and held it up so that Frieda could see. ‘The British Library,’ she said. ‘Dr Alexander Holland, expiry date March 2015.’ And another. ‘The Tate, expires November 2014. This is not an old wallet.’ She looked at Frieda. ‘You don’t seem very surprised. How did it get here, Dr Klein?’

‘I don’t know. But I can guess.’

‘Guess then.’

‘It was planted, of course.’

‘Of course.’

‘By Dean Reeve.’

Glen Bryant gave a loud snort. Hussein laid the wallet on the table.