‘Tanya Hopkins and Frieda Klein?’ said the woman, cheerfully. ‘Come on in.’

They followed her up a set of dingy stairs and through a door into what looked like an abandoned office. It was a large space with only a desk and several unmatching chairs.

‘You’re to wait here,’ the woman said to Hopkins. ‘I’m to take Dr Klein upstairs.’

‘That’s not possible,’ said Hopkins. ‘If there’s any meeting with DCI Hussein, then I have to be there throughout.’

‘DCI Hussein won’t be coming,’ said a voice, and Hopkins and Frieda looked round. A man had come through a door at the far side of the office.

Hopkins started to say something, then stopped. ‘I know you,’ she said.

‘But you can’t remember where from,’ said the man.

‘At the police station,’ said Frieda. ‘The meeting before …’

‘Before you absconded. Yes, that one. My name’s Walter Levin.’

‘What’s this about?’ said Hopkins, suspiciously.

‘I need five minutes with Dr Klein.’

‘That’s not possible. We have an important meeting with the police.’

‘Please,’ said Levin.

Hopkins looked at Frieda. ‘I don’t like this. Not one bit.’

‘All right,’ said Frieda. ‘Five minutes.’

‘This way,’ he said.

She followed him up a set of stairs, then another. There was a metal door in front of him.

‘These premises don’t have much to recommend them. But they do have this.’ With that, he pushed open the door and Frieda stepped through and found herself out on a roof terrace.

‘Come and look,’ he said.

He led her to a set of railings at the front façade of the building. They looked down at the market. He pointed across at the cranes at the back of King’s Cross and St Pancras.

‘You forget that you’re up on a hill here,’ he said.

‘I’m sorry,’ said Frieda. ‘I’m not really in the mood for small-talk. What’s this about?’

‘What were you expecting it to be about?’

‘About whether I’m going to jail or not.’

‘Yes, well, Commissioner Crawford is rather keen on your going to jail.’

‘What about DCI Hussein?’

‘She’s more agnostic on the matter.’

‘So why am I talking to you?’

‘There’s a big fat file on you. About your brief career as a Metropolitan Police consultant.’

‘That didn’t work out too well.’

Levin smiled. ‘That’s a matter of interpretation.’

‘Well, it almost got me killed and the commissioner wants me in prison, so you’ll excuse me if I have a slightly glass-half-empty view of the situation.’

‘What about working for me?’

Frieda had been looking down at the market stalls but now she turned to Levin. There was a casualness about his demeanour, as if he were never quite serious. But there was a coldness about his grey eyes that made him difficult to read. ‘Who exactly are you?’

‘What did I say when we met before?’

‘You said you’d been seconded from the Home Office.’

‘That sounds about right.’

‘I’ve no idea what it means.’

‘What it means is that I can put a stop to any possibility of your being prosecuted.’

‘In exchange for what?’

‘In exchange for your availability.’

‘Availability for what?’

‘To do the sort of thing you do.’

‘Can you be more specific?’

‘Not as yet.’

In the street a cyclist was wobbling precariously between the stalls, with shopping bags hanging from the handlebars.

‘No,’ said Frieda. ‘I can’t do anything like that. Sorry.’

Levin took off his glasses and polished them on his rather shabby striped tie. ‘There’s one other thing.’

‘What’s that?’

‘Your friend Karlsson.’

‘What about him?’

‘He interfered with a criminal inquiry. He’s facing jail time as well. And his case is more serious than yours. He’s a police detective. It’s the sort of case where judges talk about the foundations on which justice depends.’

Frieda looked round sharply. ‘If you can help Karlsson out of this, then …’ She thought for a moment. Then what? ‘Then I owe you a favour.’

‘A favour,’ said Levin. He put his glasses back on. ‘Jolly good. I like that.’ He beamed at her and his eyes remained sharp. ‘Of course you know that a favour’s a dangerous thing.’

He held out his hand and she took it but then let it go.

‘How do I know you’re a good person?’ she asked.

‘I’m keeping you out of prison. I’m keeping DCI Karlsson out of prison and returning him to the Met. Doesn’t that make me a good person?’

‘Some people wouldn’t think so.’

34

Karlsson saw Frieda before she saw him. That was unusual. Normally she was alert to her surroundings, wary of being looked at, or being caught. But for the second time in just a few days, she was unaware of his approach. She was leaning on the railing, looking out at the river. Behind him the lorries and buses were rushing along Chelsea Embankment. The noise and the stench of the fumes seemed to be trapped by the summer heat, and he could feel the rumble of the vehicles in his feet.

‘This is a strange place to choose,’ he said, and Frieda, turning, gave him a nod of recognition. He leaned on the railing beside her. A tourist boat was passing. They could hear the tinny sound of the guide’s commentary. A voice on a Tannoy said that the River Thames was a pageant of history. It was from here that Francis Drake set off to circle the globe. And it was here that he returned with a ship full of treasure and became Sir Francis Drake.

‘I hate the Embankment,’ Frieda said.

‘That’s a strong word.’

‘There used to be huts here on the shore. Boatyards and wharves and jetties. Then they destroyed them and replaced them with this highway. It was like London was turning its back on the river, pretending it didn’t exist.’

‘It was quite a long time ago.’

‘One day they’ll demolish the Embankment, all the way from Chelsea to Blackfriars, and we’ll have a riverbank again.’

‘Which doesn’t explain why you arranged to meet here.’

‘I wanted to be by the river. But I didn’t want to be in the middle of a market or a riverside pub.’

‘A riverside pub,’ said Karlsson. ‘Now that sounds tempting.’

‘Some other time.’

‘This is about Sandy?’

‘You know, we’ll probably never know where he entered the water.’

‘Has Frank said anything?’

‘From what I’ve heard, he’s made no statement at all.’

‘Does it matter?’

‘Legally? Probably not. But it matters to Sasha. It matters to his sister.’

‘And to you?’

‘Nothing Frank could say could make it any better, or make it less awful. The thought of his body floating in the river during those days and nights is a horrible one. But what’s really painful is what he went through when he was alive.’

‘And yet you came down here.’

‘Yes. To say a sort of goodbye, another goodbye. Strange, isn’t it?’

‘Then what am I doing here?’

‘I wanted to say a sort of goodbye to Sandy and a sort of sorry to you.’

‘You don’t need to say sorry.’

Karlsson saw Frieda come closer to laughing than he had seen for a very long time.

‘Really?’ she said. ‘I got you suspended and almost fired. And also I’m sorry about Bella and Mikey’s room.’

‘I don’t think I’m ever going to tell them why it has been redecorated. I guess I owe you a debt of thanks for my reinstatement.’

‘You don’t look especially happy about it.’

There was a pause. ‘When I got the news,’ he said finally, ‘it was like being woken out of a sleep and getting up and feeling your muscles ache and wondering whether you can really face the day.’