Ess filled in the rest of her mind map, for what it was worth. An arrow sped from Lord Hever, annotated 'Left 6 p.m.'. It terminated in a question mark. It didn't seem much for an afternoon's effort. She scrubbed out the six and replaced it with '18:00'. That was what a professional would call it. It still made it no less sparse.

"Where did you go to, Daisy?" she muttered. "Why haven't you phoned your boyfriend? And I'm not talking to myself," she added a little louder. "It helps to think aloud."

"I didn't say a word," said Shades. "Because I'm not paid to think. Not aloud, anyway."

"No, but I could hear you smirking." She turned to face him. He lounged on the sofa, steaming cup in his hand. He looked comfortable there. More than that, he looked like he belonged there. The thought disturbed her, though she wasn't sure why. "This isn't easy, that's all."

"Oh, I never think of you and easy in the same sentence." He affected a look of forced innocence.

"This is important, I'm struggling here, and you think it's a good time to make jokes?"

"That's exactly the best time to make a joke. Besides, you've had my body, listening to my jokes is the price you have to pay."

"Really? Because you and cheap hardly ever appear in the same sentence." He smiled, and despite herself, she matched it. "Sorry. You feeling neglected?"

He slid to his feet in one smooth motion and eased himself across the floor. If only he would take some yoga with her, he would be as graceful as a cat. He bent over behind her and hugged her with his free arm, resting his chin on her shoulder.

"Neglected? Never. Did you get corroboration that she was there?" He nodded at the mind map.

Too late, Ess snapped the book shut. "Oi, nosy. No. But he was telling the truth."

"No one ever tells the truth, not when you ask them."

"Well, he was. I saw his aura. Oh, and there was someone else there too. A politician."

"Which one?"

"I don't know."

"Who did she leave with?"

"No one. At least, I don't think so."

"In a car? On foot? Taxi?"

She looked at the notebook and bit her lip. He sighed, placed his mug on the table and wrapped both arms around her.

"When you're looking for someone, you have to be able to picture exactly what happened," he said. "Imagine someone is describing a scene in a film that you've not seen, and you're going to have to recreate it. If you can't place something, then ask. Don't assume. And the more they won't answer in detail, the more you question."

"You think I'm useless at this."

"Me? No. Quite the opposite. You have everything going for you. You care, you're stubborn, you read people well and you've got all your witchy spooky stuff going on. But you're new, that's all. These things come with practice."

"Is that what you used to do? Before, I mean."

"Something like that."

She didn't press him. He was always vague about what he did in the army. Maybe it was the Official Secrets Act, but she sensed it was more than that. It would come, she was sure, and when it did they'd lift the weight together. Instead she said, "So why do I need to know how she left?"

"Well, a car could mean a driver. Who was he, what car was it, where is it now? If she drove herself then what car did she have access too? Is it parked up somewhere? A taxi is a bit more tricky, but there are ways and means. Where did it drop her off? How did she pay? Credit card? Another thing you can chase down. On foot? So she was going somewhere close then. A tube station? They have CCTV. What acquaintances live in walking distance? What direction did she head off in? See? It's all in the detail." He reached out and tapped the notebook. "Plot summaries are all well and good for the big picture, but you need the script too."

"You think maybe I should go meet Lord Hever again?"

He stood, resting his hands on her shoulders. "Sounds like a plan, but if he's dodgy you've given him a chance to cover his tracks." He kissed the top of her head. "But never change. I'm not sure I could cope with a cynical you. The nice one is dangerous enough."

"Oi!" She slapped at his hand but he whipped it out of the way, bouncing backwards. She rose, turning to face him. He danced on the balls of his feet, his fists held in a relaxed boxer pose, a grin on his face.

"Come on then, if you think you're hard enough," he said. "I like them feisty." He suddenly stopped and looked at his watch. "But not now. I have to go to work. Oh, and that reminds me. I've got Sunday and Monday off. I'll need some shut eye Sunday morning when I come off shift, but if you want to do something, I can put off my other girlfriends. Think on it."

He grabbed his jacket and threw it on. Ess walked up and hugged him, savouring the kiss goodbye.

"See you Sunday, then," she said, as he finally pulled away. "Give me a bell when you're awake." As he turned to the door she noticed his mug, still half full, on the table. "Hey, you know the rules. Wash up your own mess."

"Me?" He stopped at the door, his hand on the latch. "But that's women's work." Then in a flash he was through the door, his laughter echoing down the hallway as he sprinted for the stairs.

For a moment she contemplated leaving the mug there for him on Sunday, but she shouldn't have to live with his mess. She swore she wouldn't do this, be the little woman to his archetypal man. He was only slightly forgiven that he'd done it as a deliberate joke, but it would only work once. She was not going to be domesticated. She picked up the mug and took it to the sink. At least it would wait until later, after she'd eaten dinner.

Her phone rang, the unfamiliar ringtone of her new purchase startling her for a moment. She looked at the display then held it to her ear.

"Martin, hello." Then, as she started to say, "Any news?" he said at the same time, "Have you got anywhere?"

"Sorry, no," she said. "I've interviewed Lord Hever today and established the exact time she was last seen, but it's early days yet. We did warn you. I take it she's not been in contact with you?"

"No." The misery was evident, even over the phone.

"I promise you, the moment we learn anything, anything at all, you'll be the first to know."

"Yeah, thanks."

"Have you thought of anything else that could help?"

"No. I've told you everything."

"Okay. Listen, I know this is easier said, but worrying isn't going to get you anywhere. Is there anything else you want? Do you want me to come round, talk things over?"

"No, I'm fine."

Yeah, right. That's why you are phoning up virtual strangers. But there was little she could do over the phone.

"Well, you have my number if there is anything. Is that it?"

"What? Oh, wait, no. Um, you said it might be useful to chat with the usual crowd, right? Well, there's a private showing before Nick's launch. I'm guessing most of them will be there. The ones that know Daisy, I mean. Saturday. Will that help?"

"Sure. Saturday?"

"Yes. Eight, but no one gets there then. It'll go on till late. I'll text you the address, okay?"

"Okay."

"Um..."

"Yes?"

"So, I've got an invite. Plus one. Only, I'm not sure I can swing plus two. You know what I mean?"

Ess smiled to herself. "Of course. I'm not sure Oz would enjoy that sort of thing anyway." Actually, it was exactly the sort of thing Oz would enjoy. Free booze, beautiful women and arty people full of themselves. Yes, Oz would enjoy that immensely. No one else would, but he'd be in his element. "What sort of do is it? Formal?"

"Oh God no. Casual. No one dresses up for these things."

Right, thought Ess, after she'd said goodbye. Casual. She recalled the woman who'd air-kissed Martin in the coffee bar. So long as casual cost a month's pay and looked fabulous. Damn it, she'd have to go shopping. Her hair needed doing too. Looking that casual took money and a lot of preparation.