‘Nothing so far. I guess it’s stuck in the Home Office. Come on, let’s go and visit Philip Tooting’s secretary and see when he’s back from gallivanting around Bermuda.’

‘Do you think it’s odd that he hasn’t flown back?’

‘Odd? Yes. But you know what these corporate types are like. The thing that worries me is that George and the others kept the garage such a fierce secret, yet somebody else knew.’

‘The other thing I’ve been thinking about is funding; it’s not easy or cheap to build and run a private lab.’

Kelly’s phone buzzed with a call from Kate Umshaw in Penrith.

‘Kate. News?’

‘How’s the big smoke, guv?’

‘Crowded.’ Kelly glanced sideways at Matt. ‘What have you got?’

‘We’ve got George Murphy’s VW Touran, abandoned in the Brandelhow car park.’

‘Underneath Cat Bells?’

‘Yup. And it’s in perfect condition, almost sterile.’

‘To be expected, I suppose.’

‘But if someone was cleaning up, they missed something: a USB stick in an envelope, inside a toilet bag in the spare wheel housing. The car has been processed forensically: no prints, and the USB contents have been sent for examination. There’s something else. I’ve got a list of phone calls made to and from Allerdale House the week George was there. Several came in from Montague-Roland’s number, but there was only one outgoing call. It was to a mobile registered to one Matilda Knight. She’s a journalist.’

Chapter 20

Back at her hotel, Kelly stretched her legs and undressed. They’d been at it for eleven hours, and she needed a shower and to curl up in lazy joggers and a sweater. Emma was still not back, and Kelly knew that the young DC would probably only sleep when someone actually ordered her to. She used to be like that herself. It was different as an SIO, though, more mentally demanding. All the graphs and indices and links she had flowing around her brain made her dizzy, and there was only so much information she could retain before she needed to recharge. Philip Tooting’s secretary had been told that his presence would be helpful, and she’d finally got the message through to him. He wasn’t pleased, apparently, but he also wasn’t above the law. Not only had his neurocellular section been decimated; they were potentially running an illegal lab. The USB stick from George’s car had been sent to a sterile lab environment in Carlisle to be examined in detail. Unfortunately, they couldn’t just stick it into a computer and look for themselves, because whatever they found might not stand up in court unless certain procedures had been followed.