Six months have passed. The bunting is still up in Porth Trevan, the gift shop sells moody postcards of the lighthouse at dusk, and Emma Trelawney is trying very hard to enjoy the quiet.

Then Diana Marsh knocks on the door. She has spent fifteen years covering defence and security, she is writing a book, and she doesn’t believe the story everyone settled on is the whole truth. “That’s not a finished story,” she tells Emma. “That’s a story that’s paused.”

Three streets back from the harbour, Carol Hollis has never accepted that her sister May died in an accident. The coroner says May fell from a cliff path in the dark. Carol says May would never have set foot on that path. And the private investigator she hired has found the last number May rang before she died: a phone with no name attached, that somebody is still topping up.

Pulling on that thread takes Emma, Lucas and Diana away from the harbour, through old harbour records and shell companies, and across the North Sea to the fjords of western Norway.

Some signals were sent a long time ago. Somebody has been waiting for an answer ever since.