Aylesbury actually smiled and she saw a twinkle in his eye she had never seen before. ‘The good news for you, DS Daniel, is that I have listened to the recording made and, while some of your questioning may have been a little unconventional, I certainly could hear no threatening remarks. I have spoken to both Cole and the constable stationed outside of the room at the time, and neither of them are able to corroborate Mr Hunt’s version of events. Given that Mr Lapham has also refused to make any statement of any kind relating to what did or did not happen during questioning on Saturday, I have informed Mr Hunt that there is very little more I can do.’

It all clicked into place for Jessica. Cole had stopped the tape and left the room, leaving the door only slightly ajar. The constable outside heard nothing – or was happy to say that. Lapham, meanwhile, would not want any kind of coverage, either public or otherwise, to indicate he might have been intimidated by a female. That meant it was simply Hunt who was left with a problem.

Aylesbury continued. ‘Mr Hunt has indicated in his letter that he would wish to pursue this matter with Detective Superintendent Davies. I spoke with him a short time ago and informed him that I believed there was no basis for any action, especially given the lack of cooperation from Mr Hunt’s own client. I should tell you, however, that the superintendent has promised to meet with Mr Hunt at some point this week. He will make a final decision as to whether or not Internal will be called in.’

DSI Davies was their overall boss but was not based at the station and had been winding down to retirement for a while now. On most decisions he deferred to the local DCI and William Aylesbury was one of his particular favourites. Jessica guessed on this occasion Hunt’s profile meant a meeting had to be held. She hoped it would just be for courtesy and almost allowed herself a half-smile.

‘I just have one more question to ask, DS Daniel,’ Aylesbury said, this time giving her the biggest smile she had ever seen him give anyone. ‘Did you really call him a shitbag?’

Jessica said nothing for a moment, weighing up her options. She wasn’t entirely off the hook yet. Given her boss’s demeanour, she replied with the half-smile she had been trying to stifle. ‘I think it may have been “slimy shitbag”, Sir.’

The DCI laughed much like Harry had two days previously and once again Jessica found herself joining in, albeit it not quite so wholeheartedly as she had with Harry.

‘I would have loved to have seen his face,’ the chief inspector managed to say in between guffaws. It didn’t take long for the lighthearted moment to pass and Aylesbury looked at Jessica to indicate it was time to be serious again. ‘I should of course point out that behaviour like that will not be tolerated and, if you did say anything out of order towards Mr Lapham, that is exactly the type of practice we do not condone.’

‘Yes, Sir.’

From there it was straight down to business. With Wayne Lapham released and uncooperative about the mysterious man who sold him the stolen goods in the pub, who they both knew probably didn’t exist, they were back to having no suspect.

The morning briefing went much along those lines. They had found one link but there must either be more to it or something else that joined the two victims. Lapham wasn’t entirely in the clear either. His mug shot was on the whiteboard with a big question mark underneath it. Officers would be looking into his banking details and phone records to see if there was anything that could link him to the dates or victims. Jessica thought it likely another minor crime or three would be discovered but doubted he would have much more to do with the main investigation.

Jessica had resolved to go back to the crime scenes that afternoon. The Scene of Crime team had already been over them with little in the way of positive results. The Christensen residence was still boarded up at the front with the husband, who was still technically paying half the mortgage, deciding what to do with the place. It wasn’t going to be easy selling a house where someone had recently been murdered inside. Sandra Prince had been discharged from hospital the previous day and Jessica was also going to pay her a visit. It had been her who had first put them on the tail of Wayne Lapham and maybe she had something else tucked away. Jessica had been in such a hurry to get out of the hospital the previous time when she found out about the burglary, she could easily have missed something else. She knew the whole of Tuesday was going to be spent either in court or hanging around outside, so figured it was best to try to make something happen today.

The simmering undertone of the briefing was all about Jessica herself. More officers than ever before had said ‘good morning’ or ‘hi’ to her in the hallways. Everyone clearly knew about her incident, or at least the Hunt part of it, and seemed suitably impressed. She had already been offered six separate ‘drinks from the machine’ which was about as generous as anyone ever got in the station.

The briefing ended and she sent everyone on their way. The investigation was still in somewhat of a mess given the lack of suspect, motive or method but at least everyone was in a good mood. It seemed a silly distinction but sometimes people being positive could make something happen.

Officers had begun to leave the room when Jessica saw Rowlands calling her over, flicking his head and pulling a face. To others it might seem a somewhat disrespectful way to initiate a conversation but Jessica didn’t mind. He was standing near the back of the room, slightly away from any of the other departing officers. She walked over to him, fully expecting some crack about her car, Hunt, or something else that wasn’t very funny.

‘All right?’ she asked.

‘I’ve had a thought.’

‘Well, it’s been twenty-eight years. It had to happen sometime.’

Rowlands gave a half-smile but didn’t take the bait. ‘No, seriously.’

‘Go on then.’

‘There is this guy I used to go to uni with who is now a part-time magician . . .’

‘That’s a serious thought?’

‘No, honestly. Listen, I was asking him about how you could get in and out of something that was locked.’

‘Are you taking the piss?’

‘We don’t have any better ideas, do we?’

Jessica raised her eyebrows but had to concede they didn’t. ‘What did he say?’

‘It was complicated. I think he wants to meet you.’

‘You are joking?’

‘No, really. Look, it was just a thought.’

‘A shit one.’

She instantly felt bad about saying that. Rowlands was a cocky so-and-so but his face fell ever so slightly before returning to its previous state. In the briefings, they constantly encouraged people to ‘think outside the box’. That phrase was beyond a cliché but the intent behind it was the same: try to think around a problem rather than just go for it directly. A situation like this, where they genuinely had no idea how the murders had been committed, was exactly the time that type of thinking could possibly come up with a solution. Besides, she knew full well forces in other areas of the country used psychics in their investigations. From her point of view illusionists and psychics were more or less the same, except that magicians were upfront with their deception.

‘All right, fine . . .’ Rowlands said.

‘Look, I’ll tell you what. I’m in court tomorrow but come with me back to the scenes later today. If we don’t get anything from that, we’ll go see your mate on Wednesday. If you tell anyone that’s what we’re doing, you’re on your own.’ Jessica didn’t want it getting out that she was seemingly desperate enough to stoop to this line of thinking.

‘I’ll give him a call.’

‘He’s not a weirdo, is he?’

‘At university, he once nailed his trainers to the ceiling of his room in halls. He then set up a webcam and hung from the roof all the while streaming the whole thing over the Internet.’