'You're all right then,' he said, but didn't wait for the reply. 'Look, the body of a young girl's been found on the beach at Paco de Arcos and I want…'

Those words trampolined me off the bed, the phone jack yanked the handset from my grip and I cannoned off the door frame into the hall. I thundered down the distressed strip of carpet and wrenched the door open. Her clothes lay in a track from the door to the bed-clumpy big-heeled shoes, black silk top, lilac shirt, black bra, black flares. Olivia was twisted into her sheet face down, her bare arms and shoulders spread, her black hair, as soft and shiny as sable, splashed across the pillow.

I drank heavily in the bathroom until my belly was taut with water. I snatched the phone to my ear and lay down on the bed again.

'Bom dia, Senhor Engenheiro,' I said, addressing him by his degree in science, as was usual.

'If you'd given me two seconds I'd have told you she was blonde.'

'I should have checked last night but…' I paused, synapses clashed painfully, 'why are you calling me at six in the morning to tell me about a body on the beach? Throw your mind back to the weekend roster and you'll find I'm off duty.'

'Well, the point is you're two hundred metres from the situation and Abilio, who is on duty, lives in Seixal which as you know… It would be…'

'I'm in no condition to…' I said, my brain still blundering around.

'Ah yes. I forgot. How was it? How are you?'

'Cooler about the face.'

'Good.'

'More fragile in the head.'

'They say it could get up to forty degrees today,' he said, not listening.

'Where are you, sir?'

'On my mobile.'

A good answer.

'There's some good news, Ze,' he said, quickly. 'I'm sending someone to help you.'

'Who's that?'

'A young guy. Very keen. Good for leg work.'