‘Surely that’s not the point,’ said Sharon Pike. ‘Surely the question is why the police have failed to conduct a thorough investigation.’

I saw Windrow glance down at where he must have had a tablet tucked out of sight.

‘Harry Plimpton,’ he said, ‘has been comprehensively eliminated from the inquiry. Not only did he spend most of the period in question helping as a volunteer with the search, but he can also account for his whereabouts for the rest of the time.’

I looked at Dominic, who nodded at the incident room – the MIU had been busy while some of us were out gallivanting in the woods.

‘Has he been put in a line-up?’ asked Sharon Pike. ‘Has any effort been taken at all to try and identify the men that kidnapped Nicole?’

‘Because of the gravity of the offences this inquiry has been meticulous,’ said Windrow. He was too professional to let any of his irritation show. ‘We have followed every line of inquiry as they came to our attention.’

‘Then why haven’t you made an arrest?’ asked Sharon Pike.

The police had a two-camera set-up in the press room and, after a while switching randomly backwards and forwards, whoever was running the mixing board decided that Sharon Pike was more interesting than Windrow and settled on her.

I noticed that the journalists either side of her seemed alarmed by her behaviour, but I couldn’t tell whether it was her manner or her questions.

‘And whom should we have arrested?’ asked Windrow.

Sharon Pike blinked theatrically, as if the question astonished her.

‘Well, Andrew and Joanne Marstowe would do for a start,’ she said. ‘Since it was their plan from the beginning.’

Windrow fell back on police speak and reiterated that there were no plans to arrest Andrew and Joanne Marstowe, nor were they helping the police with their inquiries or considered persons of interest.

‘Of course not,’ said Sharon Pike. ‘Because the whole hideous plot was facilitated by an officer of the West Mercia Police!’ She almost shouted this. The journalists around her were beginning to edge away as if wary of sharing the same frame.

‘Sharon,’ said Windrow. ‘If you have any evidence—’

‘Detective Constable Dominic Croft,’ she said.

‘Well, that explains a great deal,’ I said. ‘You always were suspiciously one step ahead of the rest of us.’

‘That’s not funny,’ said Dominic, his face pale.

He was right to be worried. A public accusation like that was going to hang around his neck.

Windrow’s mouth literally dropped open in shock, but fortunately Inspector Edmondson stepped in.

‘That’s a very serious allegation,’ he said. ‘If you have any proof . . .’

‘Of course I have proof,’ said Sharon Pike and, after rummaging in her bag, held up what looked like an oblong of black plastic and marched towards the podium shouting that ‘here was her proof’ before slapping it down in front of Windrow.