‘We have received a phone call, Dottor Zen,’ she said in a voice an octave lower than usual and with a passable imitation of the Bolognese accent. ‘A Signora Santini, resident in Via del Fosso, Lucca, alleges that just over a year ago you murdered an ex-officer of the Carabinieri, one Roberto Lessi, in her apartment and then forced her at gunpoint to assist you in disposing of the corpse at sea. She further asserts that you subsequently moved into her apartment and have terrorised her both mentally and physically with a view to ensuring her silence. She is prepared to testify to this effect in court. It is therefore my duty to…’

They regarded each other in wary silence.

‘Bullshit,’ remarked Zen finally.

‘Don’t be too sure. You keep accusing me of acting irrationally. There’s no telling what irrational people may do.’

Zen shrugged.

‘I’ve been summoned to Bologna for work, that’s all. To be honest, it might not be a bad thing for us to spend a bit of time apart. I’ve been through a bad patch recently, one way and another, and I’m sure I’ve been difficult at times. I know you have. Maybe what we need is a cooling-off period to help get things in perspective.’

Gemma’s expression softened marginally, but her body remained poised for either fight or flight.

‘That time on the boat, Aurelio, when we moored off Gorgona,’ she said dreamily. ‘Do you remember? You told me then that we were prisoners of each other. Well, that’s what I’m starting to feel like. Your prisoner.’

Zen nodded.

‘Me too. But perhaps we can both get over it. I hope so.’

He picked up his suitcase. Gemma backed into the living room, keeping her distance from him.

‘Do you want me to drive you to the station?’

‘No, thank you. I can manage.’

She shook her head sadly.