That was when he saw Jaq, dressed in a draped figure hugging silver lamé dress, talking to two men. The first man was unusually tall and towered over her. The other was a sweaty man in his fifties with a ginger moustache and a loud, wheezing laugh that Simon could hear over the chatter. They were both standing so close to Jaq that they had almost backed her against a painting.

She looked unimpressed. This was an ideal moment for him to intervene. Jaq could easily get herself out of the situation, of course, but Simon wanted to help. He put down the glass of champagne he’d been nursing and threaded his way through the crowd.

‘Jaq!’ Simon said as he approached. ‘Here you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you so I could show you the Galvani.’

Jaq’s momentarily astonished expression morphed into a broad smile. ‘Of course, the Galvani. I’ve been dying to see it.’ With that, she nodded a farewell to the men and sailed away with Simon.

‘Thank you,’ Jaq said. ‘You arrived in the nick of time.’

Simon found himself grinning at Jaq, even as he had to shove his right hand in his pocket to hide that it was shaking. He couldn’t believe he’d done it!

‘You looked fed up. I was afraid of what you might do next.’

‘Oh, so you were just protecting your company by stepping in before I caused a scene, were you?’ Jaq said with an answering smile. ‘Is there even such a thing as a Galvani?’

‘Oh yeah. Do you want to see it?’

‘We might as well, since I’m supposedly keen on the thing.’

Simon led Jaq into a quieter room where the guests were strolling along the exhibitions, admiring the occasional piece and murmuring their thoughts to their companions. He stopped before a plain white square surrounded by the widest gold frame Jaq had ever seen.

‘This is it?’ Jaq said, staring at the textured white paper. ‘You thought I’d like a plain white square.’

‘That isn’t the artwork,’ Simon said, grinning from ear to ear. He couldn’t help himself. He was in his element. This was his home turf, like the police station was Jaq’s. ‘It’s the frame.’

‘The frame?’ Jaq took a step back to examine the extensive curves and the curling golden carved feathers. ‘I don’t get it. Sarah always tells me the artist is making a statement on one thing or another, but this one is downright weird. What does it mean?’

‘Whatever you want it to mean.’

‘Oh, really?’ Jaq flipped open her catalogue. ‘According to the artist, this piece is a juxtaposition of form over substance, a reflection of how the world interprets art as the thing in the middle without realising art is all around you.’

‘Yeah, or he could say some people are all front and no substance. But that doesn’t matter. A hundred years from now, if this piece still exists, there will be thousands of interpretations of what it means.’

‘Is that a good thing?’

Simon shrugged.

‘How does it make you feel when you look at it?’

‘Honestly… irritated.’ Jaq took a step back so she could see the full glory of the frame. ‘My eyes keep being drawn to the plain little square in the middle. If there was a picture, I could cope better. I mean, even when they’re selling frames, they put a picture in so you can see how it will look in your house.’

‘Yeah, but if you replaced his white square, you’d be accused of destroying the artwork.’

‘What nonsense. Honestly, sometimes you artistic types are so weird.’

‘I guess so.’ Simon wasn’t sure where to go next and just blurted out, ‘I like your dress,’ and instantly regretted it. As a way of making conversation, it sucked.

‘Thank you,’ Jaq said, and looked flattered. So all was not lost. ‘It’s by a fashion icon. I wanted something cool for this event. I wore this same dress to your art show last year.’

‘You were here last year?’ Simon said and wondered why he hadn’t noticed her.

‘I’m guessing you were too.’

‘For the last seven years. Ever since I joined the company.’

‘Funny,’ Jaq said, shaking her head. ‘So, speaking as an artist and a designer, what do you make of the dress?’

It seemed to be a deliberately provocative question, but it gave Simon a chance to take in the glory of Jaq’s figure.

‘It’s beautiful. It suits you.’

‘Not too flashy, then?’

‘No.’ Simon hesitated, uncertain how Jaq would take his next comment. ‘But from a design point of view… you might want to change the necklace.’

‘Why is that?’ Jaq asked, apparently unfazed.

‘The dress makes a powerful statement, while the necklace is delicate, with just a small solitaire diamond. It disappears against the dress. A heavier piece of sculptural jewellery in plain silver would complement the dress better.’

‘I’ll bear that in mind. Or maybe, one day, you can help me pick something more appropriate.’

Simon couldn’t work out whether that was a counterattack to his comment or an invitation. He also didn’t know which he’d prefer.

***

Aside from being able to report back to Dr Nobel that he’d approached Jaq and had a half decent conversation before duty dragged him away, Simon still didn’t know what he made of Jaq. He also wasn’t clear what a next step should or could be, never mind whether he wanted to take it. Fortunately, Jaq was away on holiday, so he knew she wouldn’t be turning up unexpectedly.

He realised his feelings were turning more positive towards Jaq when he looked at the date on his phone to work out when Jaq would be back in London. This, of course, didn’t mean she’d be in touch.

So Simon shot to his feet when the doorbell rang. Since he wasn’t expecting anything, his combined hope and fear was that it was Jaq. The intercom revealed her standing outside, a bag of takeaways held up to the camera like a bribe.

‘What is it now?’ Simon asked, with only a twinge of anxiety. ‘It’s nine o’clock.’

‘Exactly,’ Jaq said with a cheeky grin he assumed was meant to win him over. ‘That’s why I brought dinner. I hope you like Chinese.’

‘Why? Why are you here?’ Simon asked, standing his ground for now but torn between letting her in and determination to keep her out. ‘It’s late.’

‘Ah, I’m sorry. The thing is, I’m in the middle of a case and… there’s something I’d like to ask you about it.’

‘Something you want to ask me?’ Simon said and his feeling that he should avoid this woman grew stronger. The last thing he wanted to do was get dragged into thinking about crimes and victims and death.

‘Pretty please? It’s because of what you told me in the missing boy case.’

‘I should have kept my mouth shut.’

‘But you didn’t, which was what got me to thinking you’re one of the good guys,’ Jaq said, looking hopeful, but also like she assumed she’d already won the argument.

‘Astonishing,’ Simon said, and it did amaze him that not only had Jaq appeared, but she wanted to talk about work. He was somewhat glad about the former and not at all happy about the latter. ‘Don’t you think this is verging on harassment?’

‘Oh!’ Jaq looked equally surprised. ‘If you really don’t like it, I’ll go. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. It’s just, your house is close by and we were told to take a break, so I thought I’d come over. I’m really sorry.’

Simon blinked at her, trying to process her change in attitude. Was she really as crestfallen as she appeared or was this just some world class interrogator style manipulation?

‘No, it’s okay,’ he said, with mixed feelings about encouraging her. Then again, he’d made the first move at the gallery and he had to work out what he really wanted. ‘But I don’t want to know anything about the case you’re working on.’

‘Deal!’ Jaq had already turned to leave, but at his words, she swung back and sailed into the house. ‘Come on, let’s eat. I assume you haven’t eaten yet.’

Aside from a bit of dried fruit, he hadn’t. When he was home alone, he couldn’t work up much enthusiasm for food.

‘I got a couple of side dishes with vegetables. I suspect you don’t eat enough greens,’ Jaq said as she opened a series of take away tubs. ‘Oh nice, their stir-fried broccoli is bright green. I was worried it might be overcooked, but it’s perfect.’

Simon peered at the food as he handed a plate and cup to Jaq and then laid another for himself. He’d brought cutlery as well, but Jaq was already snapping apart a pair of chopsticks. So he sat down and tried to decide between egg fried rice or the stir-fried noodles.

He couldn’t stop himself from continuously glancing at Jaq. No matter how he looked at it, this was all bloody weird.

‘You’re not used to this, are you?’ Jaq said.

‘What?’

Even the question, innocuous as it was, pushed up his anxiety.

‘Eating with just one other person. Sarah told me you never do it. Why is that?’

‘Are you interrogating me now?’

‘Sorry, I was just curious. But if you don’t want to answer, don’t worry.’

Jaq spoke without looking up as she slurped up part of a slice of something white that she’d mentioned was turnip. The other vegetable dish.

Not having her penetrating gaze on him gave Simon the courage to say, ‘I’m trying to keep myself safe.’

‘Safe from what?’

‘From whatever might happen if that person disappeared.’ It sounded stupid saying it out loud. ‘Not that it helped in the end.’

‘That sounds a bit paranoid, if you don’t mind me saying so.’

Interrogation 101, Simon assumed, because Jaq was still not making eye contact, focusing instead on her dinner. It made it easier to talk, but not easy. Should he just tell her to stop?

‘I was brought up to be paranoid.’

Christ, he’d said it. Something he thought he’d never speak of again was out in the open with this woman who knew… really knew about him. No need to pretend to have had a normal childhood with her.

‘He told me I’d go to jail for what I was doing and what I was seeing. He said if I ever let anyone suspect, he’d kill me.’

‘Do you never call him your dad?’ Jaq said, her voice level verging on disinterested.

‘He was no father. I disowned him. I try to never think about him.’

Simon’s hand was shaking. It was impossible to eat, so he put the chopsticks down on the side of his plate and focused on breathing and getting himself under control.