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you’ve got all the messages we sent to one another there, so you can see for yourself. She didn’t send many like that. That’s what I meant when I said I should have seen it for what it was. The second it came through, I should have thought, “This is weird. She never sends me messages like this.” But I didn’t. I read it and it made me feel happy, and that was enough.’
    ‘Would you say Lynda had many good friends?’
    Her image pixelated slightly as she said, ‘She had friends, of course – lots of those. But good friends, people she’d open up to and share things with? I doubt she had many in England. In a weird way, I think she preferred it like that.’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘Lyn just wasn’t built like that. She was always fine in her own company. She didn’t need to be in a crowd to feel comfortable. Plus, it wasn’t like she was a recluse or something. She went out, had dinner with acquaintances; when weWhatsApped or Skyped, she’d tell me about a book club she went to, yoga classes – all sorts of things. It sounded to me like she had an active social life and she had plenty of people she knew, but I’d be surprised if any of them actually knew her.’
    I thought of the file I’d been through, the evidence of a lack of good friendships, of people she’d shared her life with. Maybe it was a consequence of never quite being able to let herself go – or maybe it was more deliberate than that; something more premeditated. Maybe she didn’t give anything away, not because she was incapable of doing so, but because she had a reason not to.
    I changed tack. ‘You said your sister’s an accountant?’
    ‘Correct.’
    ‘But that’s her second – actually, third – career, right? I found out this afternoon that she did some modelling – and some acting too.’
    ‘Oh, sure. But that was way back.’
    ‘In the seventies and eighties?’
    ‘Well, the seventies and early eighties. She went to Europe in 1971 because she got offered some modelling jobs out there – and then she ended up staying. After that, she got into the movies – but not real well-known ones. They were, like …’ She paused, grimaced slightly, clearly searching for a way to describe her sister’s films in the most respectful way possible. ‘They were kind of low budget. Horror movies, really. That was where she met Bob, her husband. He directed them all.’
    ‘That’s Robert Hosterlitz?’
    ‘Right. Have you heard of him?’
    ‘I have, yeah. She didn’t take his name when they got married?’
    ‘No. Korin is our family name. She’d built a modelling career with that surname, so it was just easier to keep it. Anyway, like I said, Bob was a director. Back in the fifties, he won a bunch of Oscars. In his day, he was a pretty big deal, but by the time we met him …’ She stopped again; a sad smile. ‘Well, he wasn’t … Not any more.’
    ‘Did you ever see any of Lynda’s films?’
    ‘One or two, but not many. They weren’t really my thing. I supported her in what she did, because she was my sister, but I didn’t necessarily like what she was doing – you know, taking her clothes off, pretending to have sex on camera, that sort of thing.’
    I paused to check my notes. ‘After Robert died, did Lynda ever have any other relationships?’
    She shook her head. ‘No.’
    ‘None?’
    ‘Not that I knew about.’
    ‘Would she have told you if she had?’
    ‘Yeah, I think so. I mean, why conceal it?’
    I shrugged. ‘Maybe she thought you wouldn’t approve.’
    Wendy smiled. ‘Lynda’s a big girl. I’d love to think that I hold that level of influence over her, but the reality is she’s older than me, more independent than me, and wouldn’t not do something just because I said that I didn’t like it.’
    ‘So, as far as you know, she’s been single since 1988?’
    ‘As far as I know. She may have been out on a few dates or whatever, but she’s never had another relationship.’
    I nodded. ‘Okay. Why do