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and his phone in the flat. I didn’t think he was that stupid.
    I walked away from the building towards the other side of the yard, staying in line with the bin where the body had landed. A spindly hedge grew there, along the boundary between the estate and the neighbouring industrial units. The fence behind it was metal and topped with spikes. I pulled on a pair of blue gloves and took out my torch. Crouching, I moved along the boundary, searching for a flash of metal or a glint of glass.
    ‘What are you doing?’ Una Burt was right behind me.
    ‘If he jumped, I think he threw his phone away first.’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘I can’t imagine him going anywhere without a phone, can you? He’d have needed it to keep in touch with whatever was going on at Westminster, especially if he wasn’t supposed to be here. You can’t be uncontactable in his position. He came here with cash and his car key. Maybe he had his wallet – maybe not. But the phone would have given him away.’
    ‘It could have been stolen too.’
    Something on the edge of the torch’s beam flashed a reflection. It was on the other side of the fence. The casing for an iPhone. I looked further, seeing the screen, electronic components, all shattered and scattered across a wide area.
    ‘Kev?’
    He came trotting across.
    ‘Can you send someone to collect this phone and all the bits? In case they belong to our guy?’
    ‘Will do.’ He nudged my shoulder with a knee. ‘Good thinking.’
    ‘I learned from the best.’ I straightened. ‘Make sure they look for the SIM card. It might not be with the rest of the phone. He might have disposed of it separately.’
    ‘If it’s here, we’ll find it.’ Kev hurried back to the body, his suit rustling.
    ‘He was about to die,’ Una Burt said. ‘He would have known he couldn’t survive the fall. Do you really think he was that concerned about keeping a secret?’
    ‘I do. He was so concerned about it, he was prepared to die for it.’
    ‘So we’d better find out what it was.’
    I nodded. ‘As soon as we can.’

Chapter 3
     
    IT WAS A long, cold wait until the firefighters were prepared to allow us into Murchison House. I stood in the car park, huddled in my coat, trying not to scan the crowd for the faces of the boys who’d attacked me on my previous visit. They probably wouldn’t recognise me again, not with my hair tied back and a police jacket in place of the long overcoat I’d been wearing the last time. I thought I’d remember them, though. I thought I might remember them for ever.
    The other thing I was trying not to think about was the person who I had to assume was watching me, the man who had inserted himself into my nightmares: Chris Swain. He was in my thoughts in public places and wherever I called home. He’d shown me he could reach me anywhere, even if I tried to hide. He’d taught me there was no such thing as privacy. He’d made me aware that safety was an illusion. He’d promised me a visit, two months earlier, because my boyfriend had disappeared and I was on my own. I was still waiting. I knew he’d come.
    A promise was a promise.
    ‘Do you think he’s watching?’
    The question echoed my thoughts so closely that I jumped. ‘Who?’
    ‘The person who set the fire.’ Liv Bowen frowned at me. ‘Who else?’
    ‘No one.’ I nodded to where Mal Upton was standing with a video camera, unobtrusively filming the people who were still watching, still enthralled, even though it was two in the morning. ‘If there’s an arsonist here, we’ll get him on film.’
    ‘With any luck.’ Liv looked up at the towers that loomed over us. ‘Too many places to hide, though. You’d get a good view from any of these. If he’s watching he doesn’t need to show himself.’
    ‘From what I understand that’s part of the fun. They like to get as close as possible. Smell the smoke. See the bodies.’
    Liv shuddered. She was pale and thinner than usual, not quite back to her old self, even