‘You’re beautiful.’

Before she could retaliate, he’d walked away and switched on several screens and radio frequencies.

‘Live action this morning, from Ravensword mainly. We can keep an eye on all other inquiries as they happen. Do you have this rig up north?’

‘Fuck off.’

‘You still say that a lot.’

‘With good reason.’

The radio crackled. ‘Patrol car 247, boss. Approaching Ravensword. Will report further when inside building.’

Kelly wished she did indeed have this rig. She chastised herself. Actually, nothing beat meeting suspects face to face, and if she had to drive the length of the Lake District, then all the better.

Simultaneously officers checked in from all over the city, giving updates and sending images for their SIO to collate. Not that he had much to do, because it all happened automatically, but it meant that a human being was watching events unfold as one big picture, and, more importantly, making the decisions that a computer could not.

Several pods were working on Ravensword. One focused on George’s lab and his work, another on the board of directors. A third was looking at ongoing research projects, currently involving the House of Lords, and yet another was investigating the neurocellular lab. Other pods were studying CCTV and recordings made by the switchboard.

Kelly tapped her foot. She was unaccustomed to the inertia. She wanted to be on the ground with them, asking questions, looking into people’s eyes, making split-second decisions and evaluating on the move.

‘Fidgety?’ Matt asked rhetorically.

She got up and walked around the room. ‘I need to get out and do something, Matt. I can’t stay tucked away in here just waiting for stuff to happen.’

‘Why don’t you go and find out where Alexandros Skarparis’s family home is? And phone the Home Office to see if we can get him flown back. I know a girl who works in visas.’

‘I bet you do.’ She left the room and logged on to her computer, where she entered Skarparis’s name, flight number, work permit details and address. It didn’t take long to find out that his mother lived in Larnaca, and there was a phone number. She dialled it.’

‘Yassou!’

Kelly heard a cacophony of noise and chaos. ‘Alexandros, parakalo?’

The woman hung up. So, he’d gone home for sure. Next she got in touch with the Home Office Border Force and explained her predicament. After forty-five minutes, she was finally put through to somebody who told her that to request a foreign witness to return to the UK, there first had to be a letter from the Crown Prosecution Service confirming the need for that person to be in the country, and the charges. They were more than willing to give advice on a particular case, but authority from a chief commander was required. She wandered back to the incident room.

‘Do we really think Alexandros is a suspect? I mean, an authentic one.’