Guthrie pulled back, put his hands up on the girl’s shoulders and held her out at arm’s length. ‘Talk to Cliff, Jess, give him all the help you can.’

Off the boat, facing the realities on dry land, Guthrie lost some of his bounce. He let go of Jess, swivelled and spoke to me with his head turned half-away. ‘Ray was last seen in the Noble Briton in the Cross. Friday of last week. He was drunk. That’s all I know. Stay in touch.’ He walked away with his hands in his pockets and his head down.

Jess Polansky wiped her eyes with her hand and looked at me suspiciously.

“What does he mean-you’re going to look for Ray?’

‘Just that. I’m a private investigator; I’ve found missing people before, quite a few.’

‘Ray’s not really missing though, is he? I mean, Mr Guthrie says someone saw him last week. That’s not missing.’

‘No. You’re half-right. There’s missing and missing. Look, can we talk now? Would you like a drink or something?’

She shrugged. ‘All right. I’m on my lunch break. I might as well have a drink.’

She pulled on one of the mooring lines that held the Satisfaction; muscle swelled and sinew tensed in her slim arm. She let the rope go and moved down the jetty.

‘Ray loves that boat’, she said.

‘Yeah. How old are you, Jess?’

‘Nineteen.’

‘What d’you do?’

‘I work part-time for Mr Guthrie at the marina, and I teach water-skiing.’

That explained the muscle and sinew. ‘You must be good- Ray any good at it?’