‘Anyway,’ he said, ‘have a nice day.’ He turned and walked away as quickly as he could.

The telephone interviews were wholly unsatisfactory. The first interviewee was convinced that a tall, slim, olive-skinned man in an expensive suit had exited the other car and handed a white envelope to Stuart while he sat in his damaged vehicle. She said that no words were exchanged and the tall man then returned to his white Land Rover Discovery and drove away. She suspected it was to do with drugs. The second witness contradicted much of what the first had said. He had been in his work van and had slammed on his brakes to avoid hitting Stuart’s car when it was shunted into his path. He remembered a fair-skinned man of average height exiting a white Land Rover Discovery and exchanging details with Stuart. He remembered a small piece of paper being handed over. He’d assumed it was a business card. The third witness saw the collision and then pulled up to call emergency services. By the time he got out of his car, the white Land Rover was gone. He approached Stuart to tell him the police were on their way. He didn’t see Stuart leave.

‘People never see the same thing,’ said DC Akhtar. ‘Best-case scenario is they don’t directly contradict each other.’

‘But they did,’ said Jameson, feeling frustrated. The only consensus was that a white Land Rover had hit Stuart’s car and that both drivers had left the scene before the police arrived. ‘How do we trace this guy?’

‘No one took down the Land Rover’s registration. The West Yorkshire force are checking CCTV but I wouldn’t hold my breath.’

‘Before you go,’ said Jameson, ‘can I ask you to check your database for someone? His name’s Thomas Lake. Probably aged between thirty-five and forty-five. He may have been arrested for drink or drug offences fifteen or so years ago in the Greater London area.’

‘Thomas Lake. Got it.’

‘You’d better look at domestic abuse or any violent crimes too. He had a temper, by all accounts.’

‘Who is he? Another player?’

‘I hope not. He’s Jane Reid’s father. I’ve checked the electoral register for Greater London and he’s no longer on it, so he must have moved.’

‘I’ll see what I can do.’

While Jameson and DC Akhtar were interviewing the witnesses to his accident, Stuart Rose-Butler sat in a rented BMW in a car park near the maternity ward at Airedale Hospital in Yorkshire. He had been keeping tabs on Libby through Facebook and had seen the messages of congratulation appear yesterday afternoon. Apparently he had a son.