Donna wiped her eyes. She was hyperventilating a bit less and had stopped crying. 'I couldn't wake her up. I tried. I fucking tried so hard but she isn't waking up.'

'Right, me and DS Mackie better check this out,' Subeera said. 'Will you stay with her for 5, Rita?'

'Sure,' Rita said, helping Donna to get up and leading her to a nearby water cooler. She poured Donna a cup of cold water and helped her sit down on one of a pair of plastic chairs. Donna gulped it back in one go. Her t-shirt was streaked with dark patches. The unmistakable metallic scent filled Rita with dread. Especially when Subeera had gone.

'I kept telling her this would happen. She was stupid and stubborn and she didn't do what I asked,' Donna gulped, her whole body shaking. 'I hated her sometimes. Really, really fucking hated her.' Donna's voice was filled with white hot rage and Rita felt the nausea climbing back. As surreptitiously as she could, she pressed record on her voice recorder app. Her chest tightened seeing two missed calls from Alfonso.

'What did you want her to do?' she said.

Clutching the glass of water, Donna looked at Rita, startled, as if noticing her for the first time. 'I've got no idea. I'm sorry. My emotions. They're getting the better of me.'

She took a deep breath, then another. Shakily, she took another gulp and said, 'Look. Sorry you had to see me...like this. Erica was my cousin. She made some bad choices in life. I wish things had been different. I wish this hadn't happened. But I'm not surprised. I'm really not.' She blew out her cheeks. 'Do you believe in fate, Rita?'

'I don't know,' Rita said quietly, trying to keep Donna comfortable and talkative. She didn't feel in any danger from her. But there was a very real chance Donna could harm herself. 'Maybe.'

'Maybe this is fate. Maybe it's happened for a reason.' Donna sighed, her voice shaky. A young white woman walked past in a beige coat. She had messy dark purple hair. She took one look at them and scurried quickly past without stopping. Others wandered past casually and Rita had to remind herself that they wouldn't know what, if anything, had happened yet.

'That's Carly Hill. She's weird. She makes things up, you know; don't trust her. Erica didn't believe me. She never fucking listened to anything. Her whole life was...bad decisions. That was her biggest problem. That's why she's fucking dead.' As Donna went on, speaking breathily, Rita hoped that the police would come back soon. Her eyes drifted to the dark patches on Donna's t-shirt, and her arm twitched at the urge to feel for her gun, which was locked safely at home.

Not to use it. Just to know it was there.

Donna swallowed hard. Her voice cracked; Rita placed a hand on her back as she started sobbing again. 'Why didn't you listen to me, cuz? If you did, none of this would have happened.'

A door slammed hard at the end of the corridor. Rita ended her recording as Subeera returned with a tall, ginger, thickset man. They were followed shortly by more uniformed officers and a group of paramedics dressed in green uniforms.

'We're going to take you to hospital now,' one of the paramedics said to Donna. 'Not to keep you. Just to make sure you're all right.'

'I don't need to! I'm fine!' she shouted at them.

The ginger policeman glanced at Rita, his face inscrutable. 'If you wouldn't mind coming with me, please. Just procedure. I'll need to take a statement, Ms...'

'Silvera.' Rita got up. Her heart pounded, any slight hope that Donna had imagined the whole thing fading fast, although who was she kidding? She thought of Erica's frantic warning last night about Matteo and Alfonso's evasive answers this morning. She tried to tell herself that he didn't know, that he was telling her the truth. The nagging feeling that he hadn't told her everything became a scream.

A loud, scratchy voice came over speakers she couldn't see. In Rita's tense state it made her jump. 'Dear customers. This is Yvonne Lindon, the managing director of the London Ornata Hotel and Conference Centre. I regret to inform you that a serious incident has occurred. As a result, the Crime Convention is suspended until further notice. Please accept our heartfelt apologies.'

So it's real then, she thought, feeling nauseous. Yvonne Lindon continued, 'You will shortly receive an email with details on how to claim a full refund. You are entitled to a free 4-night stay at any of our 50 4-star hotels across the UK. Simply visit our website for further information.'

'I hate hotels,' Rita muttered, not caring if he had heard. She had stumbled on the sickeningly soft red carpet when Heather's team of armed officers had led her and the bulls out of the Armitage Hotel's secret torture chamber, staring at the ruined underground lobby that Henry Dixon's fans had purchased drinks in and trashed in their attempt to flee. There was something so repulsive about the facade of shiny floors and luxury chandeliers, they always seemed so fake.

'Might as well go in here,' he said, shoving open the door to an empty meeting room. A plastic axe sat by the entrance to the small room, along with another skull that looked all too real. 'Have a seat. This won't take 5 minutes. I'm Detective Sergeant Alex Mackie.'

He took out an old fashioned leather notebook and some stapled sheets of paper. 'According to the list the hotel has provided you were in Room 424. Is that correct?'

'That is correct, yes.'

'And who else was there with you?'

'My boyfriend, Alfonso Cadiz. Do you want me to call him?' Rita said. 'We're here with his nephew. He's in Room 331.'

'No, that won't be necessary at this point. What's the nephew's name, please?'

'Matteo Cadiz,' Rita said. 'M, A, T, T...' She had to tell this guy what Erica had said but she didn't know how to find the words. She felt sick with apprehension and anxiety. If DS Mackie was anything like her, if he didn't find out now he'd be suspicious of why she hadn't told him before. The thought of Erica lying alone in her room made her indescribably sad.

It made her feel like she should have done more.

'Got it. What is your relationship with Donna Markham?'

'I had never spoken to her until yesterday,' Rita said. 'Erica had sent me an email, I think, asking me to be on the show but I declined. DI Sabbagh asked me to stay with Donna when she went to fetch you, as I'm a police officer myself.'

'Got it. How did Donna seem, just now when you sat with her?' DS Mackie said.

'Very unstable and angry, between anger and sadness. It must have been a terrible shock, to find someone unresponsive,' Rita said. Her English language skills were starting to fail her. She told him what Donna had said about what happened to Erica being fate and the result of bad decisions, that it might have happened for a reason.

'I took a recording,' Rita said. 'Just so that you can listen. It may be significant.'

'Sure. Send it over.' He kept his face impassive and made notes as Rita transferred it. 'Did you see anything suspicious last night?'

'So, I went to bed around 22.45. I heard Erica and another young woman have a discussion in the corridor. The other woman was asking her about going on her podcast. Accused Erica of not caring or believing her.' Rita sucked in a breath. 'I heard the name Carly. Donna mentioned a Carly too.' Countless interrogations had taught her that she wouldn't remember or repeat everything, that it could even look bad if she did. But she had to tell them. She couldn't not. A young woman was dead or seriously injured. Someone's sister, someone's daughter, someone's friend.

'Are you all right?' DS Mackie said, offering her a bottle of water kind of like the way she had offered the cup to Donna. 'Slow down. Take a moment. It's OK.'

'I spoke to Erica,' Rita said. 'This would have been about 22.50. She came over to me in the corridor. At first I thought she was going to speak to me about her podcast. But when I said Donna had already spoken to me about it, she was horrified. She said Donna had a personality disorder and couldn't help the way she acts. I didn't know, I mean she just seemed aggressive...' Picking up the plastic bottle, she took a deep breath. The lid was on too tight and she couldn't unscrew it. DS Mackie scribbled something down in his notebook. He looked up with a blank face.

'Go on.'

'Erica then asked me...' Alfonso would understand, Rita tried to reassure herself. If he was at all a decent guy, and all the evidence told her he was, then he would. 'She told me to stay away from Matteo and his entire family. She told me that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree and to get the hell away from them. She was really, really terrified. I don't know what he did - and then she just ran before I could ask about it.'

'OK,' DS Mackie said. 'We'll look into this, Ms Silvera. Do you feel as if your own safety is under threat?'

'I...'

'If you feel in danger from a person close to you, it might be a good idea to have the number of the specialist domestic violence hotline. Just in case.' He passed her a leaflet about domestic abuse.

'Thanks, but I don't think so. Alfonso is a good man, he would never...' She trailed off, hesitated a moment before putting the leaflet in her bag. He wasn't the one she would be in danger from.

DS Mackie nodded. 'I understand. I think that'll do, unless there's anything else you can tell me.'

'What about Erica?' Rita stuttered.

DS Mackie put his notebook away. 'I'm afraid we can't confirm any details. Thank you, Ms Silvera.'

Feeling shell-shocked, Rita stumbled out into the passage, walked towards the lobby.

There were dozens of people milling around in the lobby. Many, but not all, of them had bags and suitcases. The crowd made her feel disorientated and panicky. Before being kidnapped, she had never had an issue with rooms full of people. But now it just felt like she was listening to their noisy screams as the sand granules rubbed against her hands and the air was thick with the smell of blood -

Stop it, she thought, stepping away from the crowd. Her lip trembling, she reminded herself the precious animals were safe from the horrors of the corrida. They were utterly spoilt and pampered. Chicero, who had been so cruelly tortured for being 'cowardly', had become less fearful of humans, even allowing Rita to briefly pet his nose once. He was loved and cared for and he knew it.

'Rita! There you are,' Alfonso said, tapping her on her shoulder. 'I was starting to get worried.'

She said nothing, hugged him tight, putting the thoughts out of her mind. Being defensive of his nephew didn't make him a bad guy. Whatever was going on with Matteo, it could wait. She would make sure she had the conversation, but not now.

'Look, I haven't been able to go up and get our luggage from the room. The hotel staff said they will bring it shortly. The police have sealed off our entire floor. Do you have any idea what happened? That lady over there told me she had heard someone had been murdered. Seemed more concerned about getting her money back than anything else.' Alfonso gestured to a stone column, around which was a ring of purple seats. A middle aged woman with untidy, brown hair was flicking through a hardback book about Jack the Ripper. She had a grim expression on her face.

'I think someone has,' Rita said quietly.

'Rita - you haven't seen Matteo, have you?' Alfonso said suddenly. 'I haven't since last night.'

'Wasn't he at that workshop?'

'He was supposed to be, but he never showed up. He's reading my texts, but not replying. His dad says the same.' Alfonso took a breath. His jaw tightened. 'He has gone off somewhere. Federico says he does it a lot, disappears without telling anyone and nobody has any idea where he goes. The longest time has been three days.'

Rita stared at him.

'Federico assured me before we went, that things...had improved. That it wouldn't be like last time.'

'What last time?' Rita said. 'Last night, Erica Scott said I should be scared of him. This morning it seems she is dead. And now, he's disappeared.'

'Rita...' Alfonso said. 'I know it looks bad. I just didn't know how...'

'I mean, should I be worried? Like...is he dangerous? Is he mixed up with someone who is?'

'I know. I am sorry. There are things I should have told you.'