After a moment she grimaced, prompting Chris to shift uncomfortably in his chair. The sheer number of searches was incredible, covering hundreds of locations all over London and the South East. It wasn’t a surprise that a journalist like Wilson had moved around so much, but it wasn’t going to make linking his movements to the other victims any easier.

Hawkins stopped scrolling and flicked her way back to the top of the list; began working her way more slowly through recent searches: Bermondsey, Ilford, Hackney, Hatch End; nothing with any obvious connection to either of the other victims.

She cursed the list’s length, in stark contrast to Tennent’s iPhone, which had apparently contained no navigational searches at all.

She looked up at Chris. ‘Did the techs say if they were close to unlocking Kowalski’s Samsung?’

‘Er,’ the trainee’s answer began in characteristic fashion, ‘no, but one of them was swearing about how good his security app was.’ He paused. ‘Do you think Kowalski had something to hide?’

Hawkins shrugged. ‘Only the fact that he was working for one of London’s biggest drug gangs. Everyone at Streatham Motors probably has the same software installed on their phones.’

She sat back in her seat, resting her head against the soft leather, and stared up at the ceiling, turning things over.

The list of destinations in Wilson’s phone was long, but at least they had a list. As soon as the technicians cracked Joel Kowalski’s phone, any common locations would reveal themselves, and the next phase of the investigation would open up. But the speed with which that happened relied entirely on how quickly they gained access to Kowalski’s phone.

Unless.

Chris gave a small squeak of alarm as Hawkins left her chair and passed him at speed, heading for the door.

‘Ma’am?’ he said as she left her office and began threading between the furniture.

She was already searching Aaron’s workstation, thumbing her way through the first of several precarious stacks of paperwork, when she heard the trainee arrive behind her. He watched in silence for a moment as she huffed her way to the bottom of the first pile before asking, ‘Can I help, ma’am?’

She held up a hand, already irritated by Aaron’s habitual disorganization. She made it halfway through the second heap, shaking her head at turning up information about cases they’d closed six months ago, before Chris spoke again.

‘What are you looking for?’

Hawkins drew breath, almost ready to concede that taking the time to explain might be worthwhile, when she found it. She pulled the crumpled sheet free, tugging at its corners to make sure the contents matched the vague memory on which her search had been based.