‘It seems like the police want to stretch my goodwill to the extreme. And if I can’t sue you, I can at least sell this whole sorry mess to the papers.’ Gabriel leaned forward and glared at Mitch. ‘With your name at the top, Inspector.’

Mitch returned the glare before walking away from the table and out of the room.

Chandler met him outside.

‘Can you believe that fuck?’ growled Mitch. ‘Making us look like idiots.’

Making you look like an idiot, thought Chandler but went with, ‘We’ll have to bring the lawyers in.’

Mitch shook his head. ‘I’m giving it one more try. To reason with him.’

‘You’re pushing your luck.’

Mitch just mumbled in return as Nick called from across the room. ‘Zero-zero-one, Sarge!’

Zero-zero-one – a call from home. Chandler paced to the phone to tell his mum that whatever it was he would deal with it later. As he put the receiver to his ear his mum was talking, as if she had carried on, oblivious to whether someone was listening at the other end or not.

‘– he’s insisting on trying to paint the house on his own.’

Chandler jumped in. ‘I’ll sort it later, Mum.’

She wasn’t to be appeased that easily. ‘I don’t like seeing him up the ladder.’

‘I can’t leave now, Mum.’

‘The important thing is still happening?’

‘Yes, Mum. Just tell Dad not to go up the ladder. I’ll paint it this week. Bye.’

Chandler hung up the phone. He cursed silently, annoyed that his personal life was getting in the way of work again. Then he closed his eyes. He was doing it again. Putting work before family. He promised to rectify it soon.

He returned to the recording room. Luka was still in there but the monitors were blank, the recording equipment silent.

‘He’s finished the interview already?’ asked Chandler, happy that Mitch hadn’t pushed his luck.

Luka’s response was to look anywhere but at Chandler, pretending to fiddle with the controls.

‘Luka?’

‘The inspector’s having a private chat with Mr Johnson.’

Chandler looked at the blank screens. A conversation he didn’t want recorded. Something on the wrong side of legal.

Bursting out of the recording room he made for the interview room. Yohan and Roper formed a formidable barrier in front of the door.

‘Let me in.’

‘We can’t do that,’ said Roper, teeth gritted, legs spread for balance. Expecting trouble.

‘What are you going to do?’ asked Chandler.

‘Whatever we need to,’ said Yohan.

Chandler prepared for a confrontation. Jim appeared beside him.

‘What’s happening?’ asked Jim.

‘I intend to find out.’