Prescott reached for his phone to call Ridley. It was a fair bet Mike Withey had known his killer.

“Barry Cooper.” Ridley looked around at the sea of blank faces gathered in the squad room. “Where the hell is he? I know he’s binned his old mobile, so that’s a dead end, but there must be something. He’s not a genius. Come on! Why can’t we find him?”

“He is ex-army, sir,” Jack offered.

Ridley snorted. “And what are we? Chopped liver? He’s our main suspect. The Range Rover’s on its way to the pound. The SOCOs will go over it with a fine-toothed comb. And we’ve got footprint casts and soil samples from the scene to compare with the soles of Barry’s shoes.”

He turned to look at the ever-expanding evidence boards. A third board had been added and they were all overflowing with details of four crimes spanning four decades.

“All of this . . .” Ridley said calmly. “Don’t let any of it distract us from the fact that we’re here to solve the brutal murder of one of our own. If this is all connected, it’ll come to light through the investigation of that murder, so stay focused.” He paused. “However, it’s looking likely that Mike was involved with the train robbery. Anik . . .”

Anik spoke from his desk, head down, looking at his extensive notes.

“Late eighties or early nineties, Audrey bought a villa in Spain—I still need to establish where that money came from—but in 2005 it was sold for £350,000 and Mike’s family home in Weybridge was purchased for one point five million. So there’s an extra million to be accounted for, too.”

Anik looked up before continuing.

“When Mike left the force, he . . . Well, he pretty much fell apart. He drank, gambled, slept around. I spoke to Susan about this time in their lives. She never knew who he was having affairs with, but always assumed they were coppers or prostitutes he nicked. When he was drunk, he’d also get a bit handy with his fists. She never reported him, but her medical records tell us that he didn’t hold back. Then they tried to start again in Spain—I’ve got bank statements from over there spanning ’96 to ’05—but the kids’ schooling eventually brought them home. The villa was sold, the house was bought. Being back in the UK turned Mike straight back into the arsehole he used to be, so Susan finally kicked him out. That’s where we came in.”

As Anik spoke, Jack became increasingly frustrated by how vague his information was. Why didn’t he already know where the extra money had come from? Why didn’t he already know the names of Mike’s mistresses? Anik had a lot to learn about manipulation. That’s all interviewing really was—the manipulation of another person into revealing the things you needed to know.

“Right,” said Ridley, “let’s get on with it. Why isn’t Barry Cooper’s picture on the board yet? Why hasn’t someone contacted the army, or the Passport Office or Driver and Vehicle Licensing, to get a picture of him? Why aren’t you trawling Missing Persons for him as well? Mike’s dead, Barry could be too. He could be our killer, but he could also be a second victim . . . well, couldn’t he? I want him to be alive because we’ve got questions that need answering and no bugger to ask. So find Barry Cooper!”