‘Strange? No… but she said there was a perv hanging around.’ Alarm leapt in her voice and eyes. ‘Is she all right? Where is she?’ She seemed to notice my injuries for the first time and drew the right conclusions. ‘Something’s happened!’

‘Something’, I said. ‘I’m not sure what. Selina’s been grabbed by someone, not a perv. How close are you to her?’

‘Oh, we’re… friends. I worked in TV, and I met her while she was doing a commercial. We got along, and she needed a flatmate. Grabbed? What does that mean?’

‘I wish I knew.’ I bent down and picked up a photograph from the floor. It had been detached from a frame and the backing had been cut away. The picture was a studio portrait of a self-satisfied looking guy with good teeth and ringletted brown hair.

‘Who’s this?’

‘Colin Short, Selina’s boyfriend.’

‘Athol Groom didn’t tell me about a boyfriend.’

‘He doesn’t know. Selina keeps him a secret.’

‘Why?’

She began making piles of the dismembered books. ‘He’s a photographer. A model isn’t supposed to be on with any one photographer. Shit what a mess. Why would anyone do this? What do they want, money or what?’

I squatted and helped her with the books. ‘They were looking for something. Selina ever mention a hiding place?’

‘Come on, we’re grown up people.’

‘Where does Short live?’

‘He’s got a sort of studio just around the corner. If I could find the address book…’ She rummaged round in the mess and came up with a notebook. She read out the address and I wrote it down. ‘He phoned this morning, as a matter of fact.’

‘What did he want?’

‘God, why are we doing this? Something should be done!’

‘Believe it or not, this is doing something. What did Short say?’

‘He just wanted to know if Selina got away okay. She was supposed to go to London the lucky…’ She broke off and looked contrite.