'I didn't kill her, Donna. Leave me alone.' Finally, the door opened a crack and Donna spun round, stared at the small and deceptively unassuming woman who was looking at her with a bored expression on her face. Carly Hill looked like she was taking the piss. Laughing at her.

The audacity.

After what Donna had found out.

'If I had to guess anyone killed her, I'd say it would be you. Judging by how you were acting last night. That Spanish copper plainly thought you were deranged, and she was right.' Carly sighed.

'Me?' Donna snapped, shoving past her into the flat. Her hand clenched round the knife. Instead of withdrawing it she shoved the handle down so hard that she felt it rip a hole in her coat. 'How fucking dare you?'

'It was after I told Erica about you, wasn't it,' Donna said, marching into Carly's flat. She took in the cheap Live Laugh Love décor, the lack of bookshelves, the whiff of ammonia from Carly's cage of pet hamsters in the corner of the room. It didn't fit the posh address or the bougie interior of the building, none of it did. So where was she getting the money? There could only be one place, Donna thought. 'She didn't believe me. She thought I was being - what's that she always said? Victim blamey. Cynical. Typical Donna, suspicious of anything. But then she realised. Too fucking late as usual, but she realised you were full of shit. And you couldn't have that.'

'You think I'd kill someone over that? She was the latest in a line of people that didn't believe me,' Carly snapped. 'The police were here just now. After this weird vendetta you've developed, you should be thanking me that I didn't drop you in it.'

'Drop me in it?' Donna slammed Carly's door. A dream catcher hanging from a peg on the door swayed from side to side. The sight was so jarring and irritating.

'Yeah,' Carly said, her voice triumphant. The superior tone sickened Donna when this worm had no right to do it. No right at all. 'I could have told them Erica was looking for a new co host for the podcast and that she'd asked me to do it, I could have told them how upset you were. I could have told them the fact Erica told me she was scared of you. But I didn't, because I'm a nice person. Something you're not even capable of.'

'So it was me?' Donna snapped. Slowly, very slowly, she withdrew the knife from her pocket. It felt like she was King Arthur taking Excalibur from the lake or whatever it was, the weapon felt so heavy. 'It was her crazy jealous cousin and all that shit she found out about you was just a coincidence?'

'What shit?' Carly gave a dismissive little sniff. 'Nobody can prove anything. Especially not you.'

****

Rita gave Matteo a pat on the back. He was still sobbing his heart out but maybe - maybe - he had calmed down. She noticed that none of Federico's three cats had come to comfort him; maybe they felt something like the mixture of pity and anger she did. Her feet wobbled slightly as she stood up. She had the urge for a cigarette. Although she had given up for years, the Henry Dixon case had provoked her to start smoking again and now she was reluctant to give up this coping mechanism. Her heart was in her throat as she stumbled towards the back door.

A cat brushed against her legs. Pepperoni.

She opened the door and stepped out into the garden. She lit the cigarette and her breath felt choked up in her chest. Although it wasn't healthy, this effect was probably due more to her anxiety than her smoking, she knew.

Matteo was shouting at his dad from inside. 'Don't tell the police, Dad, please! Don't tell them!'

'Rita,' Alfonso said. She had not noticed him following her outside. 'Are you OK?'

She nodded, inhaling deeply. As a teenager she had taken it up because she did not know what to do with her hands otherwise. She looked up at the sky.

'Alfonso,' she said, holding out the packet. 'Why did you tell me not to give that book to the police?'

For a second, Alfonso looked confused. Then he said, 'Honestly, Rita, I just got worried. After all, you were the one who phoned them about the body originally. Given how I know what the police can be like, I was nervous about us getting into trouble or implicated in some way.' He gulped. 'And also, Federico has been cagey about it, but there has been some issues with the police and Matteo once or twice. I was nervous about- bringing trouble on us. But I think you did a good thing.' He lit a cigarette. 'Why?'

'That's what I thought,' Rita said. After a pause, she said, 'Matteo needs help from a trained professional. Otherwise this behaviour is just going to carry on.'

'Shit, Rita...' Alfonso lowered his voice. 'I don't want to think he's a killer. In my head, it's impossible. I don't think he is a bad kid. But - after this, I don't know. And Federico thinks he could have done it.'

Rita swallowed. Nobody would ever want to hear or think this about their own family member. She would believe it of her sister - probably. But that didn't mean she wanted to.

'I should have done more,' Alfonso said. 'I mean- after the mum walked out on them especially I should have been more present in his life. I should have made more of an effort to go over here. Maybe I could have been a better role model for him.'

'Maybe you should have been,' Rita said, breathing out the smoke. 'But he's responsible for his own actions. You have had a lot going on. And he might not have been receptive to what you said. I mean, look at my sister. Despite everything, she only left Castella because he cheated on her.'

'It's not the same,' Alfonso said, sounding tormented. 'She's an adult who should have known better. I know Matteo's an adult now, but I have a hard time seeing him as that.'

'I don't think you should blame yourself.' Another cat disappeared into the garden as Rita spoke, the cat she didn't know the name of. She took his hand. She couldn't quite imagine Matteo as a killer, but then she hadn't imagined him as a stalker either.

'If he hasn't done it,' Alfonso said. 'Having the things Federico was saying to him there. Asking if he did it. That's gotta hurt. I'm worried about his mental state. He's clearly in a very bad place. I'm going to go and talk to him.'

'Yeah,' Rita said. A chill came over her. She patted him on the back as he went inside. The black and white cat came towards her. She bent to stroke it.

Her police phone was ringing. She took it out of her pocket. It was a private number.

'Hello?' Rita said, her voice hesitant.

'Good evening, Rita. It's Subeera Al-Sabbagh here. Are you around tomorrow? I am sorry to ring so late, but I'd like to speak to you.' The tone of Subeera's voice sounded strained. Usually, she seemed relaxed; remarkably so, in fact. Rita noticed that she hadn't said 'we'd' like to speak to her or about what it was about.

'Yeah, I will be,' Rita said, relighting her cigarette in a deft manoeuvre, and feeling a pang of guilt for smoking too much again. 'Shall I come to the station?'

There was a pause on the line. Subeera took a breath, and then said, 'No. I'll come to you, if that's all right. The thing is - I've been suspended. It's serious. I could lose my job. I don't really have anyone I can talk to about it.'

'Suspended? Why?' Rita said, shocked. 'And why do you need to speak to me, in particular?'

'It's best if I tell you in person.' Subeera sighed. 'What's the earliest you can see me?'

Rita looked inside. The thought of going back into the house was setting her anxiety off. It was eerily silent. Looking through the window, she saw the pizzas lying uneaten on the table. The sight made her feel oddly ashamed for ruining the dinner although rationally she knew it wasn't her fault at all.

'Whenever,' she said. 'I am staying at a hotel at Plumstead but I could meet you nearby, tomorrow morning, or I could even do it now.'

'Let's do it now, I'll get to the station in about 40 minutes.'

*

40 minutes later, Rita stood at the station and waited. She sent Alfonso a quick text to reassure him she had found the station OK. With Google, it had been easy enough to find. There was no sign of Subeera, but Rita was not nervous. Having some time alone, away from the stress of Federico's house, helped her collect her thoughts. Apprehension about what Subeera was going to tell her didn't come into it, nor was she nervous about standing around here at night. There were people around.

She stood at the entrance to the station. She took a cigarette out of the packet but then thought better of it and put it back. She had a ton more messages on her phone but ignored them; Dominguez had just announced his upcoming wedding to a man called Roberto, an ex farmer he had met last year while working on the Henry Dixon case. She had been added to a WhatsApp group among her colleagues about getting the couple a surprise present for the wedding, which had blown up with hundreds of messages. It was a bit soon, but who was she to judge?

'Coming now,' Subeera had written. Rita watched the barriers until she saw her. Subeera looked like she had not slept in some time. She pressed her card against the barrier and walked out to meet Rita.

'Rita. Thank God,' she said, looking around, then behind her past the station barrier. 'Someone who I'm pretty sure is going to understand.'