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iron-age settlement and capital for the Celtic tribe that inhabited the area at the time of the Roman invasion.
    Neal remembered taking Archie to the city museum to see the canoes and other artefacts that had been hauled out of the silt along the banks of the River Strom, and how eager his son had been to touch and admire the skilfully crafted swords, daggers and shields of another age. Whichever way he looked, north or south of the river, Neal saw much to celebrate in his adopted city.
    Neal and Ava parked in one of the university car parks and walked to the ‘student village;’ clusters of student residences, shops and eating-places that zigzagged along the south bank of the river. The residences were modern three or four storey buildings with recessed windows and blue and silver cladding, which harmonised pleasingly with the watery hues of the marina. Neal and Ava paused a moment outside Simon Foster’s block to take in the view of the Pool; longboats, river cruisers and swans jostled for space on the crowded expanse of water where the river Strom broadened before narrowing again to wind through the city centre.
    Simon Foster lived on the second floor of one of the newest residences, known as Cathedral; so new that as Neal and Ava entered the reception area, they almost collided with a group of surveyors and contractors in business suits and hard hats waiting for the lift.
    As the group stepped into the lift, Ava hung back for a moment, then, seeing that Neal was following them, squeezed in last of all. The group of men, who had been discussing snagging on the roof in loud voices, fell silent and the atmosphere was suddenly charged with sexual tension.
    No one was impolite enough to stare at Ava, but there was a lot of throat clearing, and the men looked around as though the walls of the lift were suddenly fascinating. Neal smiled inwardly, thinking how awkwardly men always behaved in the presence of an attractive woman.
    If anything, Ava played down her looks on the job, preferring to dress in trainers or flat shoes, with jeans and casual jackets but as Neal had occasionally observed, she wasn’t averse to using her looks to her advantage. Today, she was wearing a snug red cashmere sweater with skinny jeans tucked into knee length tan leather boots. Over the sweater, she was wearing a beige fur-lined gilet. Her blonde hair was swept back from her face and tied in a ponytail, loose strands tucked behind her ears. Ordinary enough, yet she looked stunning.
    The lift jolted to a halt on the third floor and as they stepped out, all eyes turned to the window to admire the view of the Cathedral after which the residence had been named. Neal and Ava trod springy new carpeting down a long corridor until they came to Simon Foster’s flat. Loud music boomed from within; Brandon Flowers singing about Mr Brightside. Ava began to sing and from the sound of it, at least three male voices inside the room were doing the same. The sound was ratcheted up for the chorus:
     
    “Destiny is calling me
    Open up my eager eyes
    ‘Cause I’m Mr Brightside”
     
    “God, Archie played this non-stop for weeks,” Neal groaned.
    “Reminds me of my student days, this place,” Ava remarked.
    Neal was aware that Ava had completed one and a half years of a degree course in London before opting for a career in the force. When questioned at her interview about why she abandoned her studies, Ava had replied that it was not because she was academically weak, nor was she the type of person who gave up easily, but she felt that what she was studying no longer had any relevance to her or to the world that she lived in, and that she had quite literally woken up one morning knowing exactly what she wanted to do with the rest of her life. Neal hadn’t been convinced of this, but he had no worries about her conviction. In the interview, her enthusiasm — and naivety — had come across strongly. He recalled her saying that her reason for wanting to be a