"He goes in on his own," I said.
Sarah had the phone halfway back to her ear.
"Boss, he asked..."
"I know what he asked. It is his note on that file, and it is his car outside that house." I held my hand out, palm up, and she put the phone in it. "Michael."
The line was full of heavy rain beating on a windscreen.
"Boss."
"You go in on your own. When you are sat down in their kitchen, ring me and put me on the table. I will say one thing and then I will be quiet."
"What is the one thing?"
"You will hear it when she does."
He did not say anything for a long time. The sound of a car went past him with its wipers dragging across the glass.
"Right," Michael Cooke said, and the line went dead.
Bzzt. Bzzt. Bzzt.
That was Nathan's phone across the aisle, and it did not stop. He had it face down on his thigh and the vibration was spinning it in a slow, angry circle against the fabric of his club tracksuit.
"Boss."
"What?"
He turned it over and held it out across the aisle.
