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until he
was too big to be cajoled or bribed or threatened. But his Catholicism affected him in many ways. It stopped him from getting married to Cabrina. He couldn’t risk the marriage failing. Simon
got a look of suspicion from Willis, who had little regard for religion of any kind.
    ‘I have more than just an obligation to respect privacy. It is a matter of faith – them having faith in me and me sticking to mine. I don’t want people to stop using this
centre. People around here rely on coming here when the weather gets cold like this.’
    ‘I understand.’ Carter was about to try his charm, thought Willis. He usually managed to win people over – male or female. She was intrigued to see what angle he’d take
with Simon. ‘But, if the press get hold of the fact that a group of homeless people are involved in the murder of a hard-working family-law solicitor, well . . . after all . . . it’s
a tricky thing for the public to get their head round. Even if it turns out to be nothing – it might be too late to stop more prejudice from creeping in. I can see how hard you work here and
what a good job you do. I know how much you rely on funding.’
    ‘It has nothing to do with this hostel and we get funding by various commercial means. We are not reliant on government grants.’ Simon looked exasperated. He took a deep breath.
‘I was given something to look after this morning.’ Simon took a phone out of his pocket. He handed it to Carter.
    Carter switched it on. ‘It’s hers,’ he said as he handed it to Willis. ‘Phone Robbo.’ Carter turned back to Simon. ‘Who gave this to you?’
    ‘Toffee. The man you mentioned.’
    ‘What did he say when he gave it to you?’
    ‘He asked me to look after it.’
    ‘You didn’t ask him where it came from? You didn’t look at it?’
    ‘No, I was busy this morning. I was still working when you came in, if you remember. I hadn’t had time to look at it.’
    ‘So Toffee gave it to you this morning; what time?’
    ‘At eight. I found him outside when I opened up.’
    ‘What did he look like?’
    ‘He had a few cuts on his face. He looked agitated, upset. He looked a mess, but then he often does. I tried to make him come in but he wouldn’t.’
    ‘We asked you if anything strange had occurred and you didn’t think to mention this?’
    ‘Because it isn’t strange for here. Fights are common. Injuries happen every day when people live in these circumstances.’
    ‘Where do you think he will have gone?’
    ‘I don’t know exactly. He hangs about with another man, Spike. He’s not here either. I think if you try the parks, bus stations – just about anywhere there’s
shelter and they can sit and drink. They never go far.’
    ‘Do you have a photo of him?’
    Simon shook his head. ‘Sorry. He’s about five nine, very thin. His hair is grey, curly. He wears a brown jacket with a lighter-coloured collar.’
    ‘And Spike?’
    ‘He’s shorter, bald; with a spider’s-web tattoo on his neck; he’s an ex-con. He’s more vocal. He gets drunk faster. We’ve had to throw him out of here for
fighting.’
    Sandy woke instantly from a deep sleep when she heard someone approach. She had learnt to stay absolutely still, next to her master, and to strike at the last minute if the
threat came too near him. She would not step away too far from the man she had to protect.
    As the man got within a few feet, she leapt out and wagged her tail and pushed her big head inside the man’s hand to lick his palm.
    ‘All right, girl. Stay quiet now.’
    Mason groaned. ‘Toffee?’ He was having difficulty opening his eyes – they had swollen up as he dozed. Toffee sat down on the blue coat and he examined Mason’s face. Mason
brought up his hand to cover it.
    ‘You’re in a state, lad.’
    ‘I’m okay.’
    The pair sat for a few moments in silence as they listened to the train thunder past overhead. People were getting in their cars in the car park. Doors