Robin looks over her shoulder. ‘Seat position five,’ he reads. ‘What does that mean?’

‘The car records every change from the sensors. So that includes the electronic seats moving.’

‘Freaky-arsed cars,’ he replies. ‘So position five is…?’

He watches as Freya does a quick search and pulls up a Mazda owner’s manual. She reads for a second. ‘Furthest away from the wheel,’ she replies at last.

‘So consistent with the man driving being taller,’ Robin replies, then mentally curses himself for not matching it up sooner when Greg told him about the man in the CCTV. ‘Satnav?’

Freya goes back to her reports. ‘Satnav wasn’t used, but the telemetry shows the car going from the house to the Premier Inn. Then the driver’s door opens and shuts.’

‘So all consistent with him working from home on Monday, as Amy said.’ He looks back at the laptop and the emails. ‘Except he wasn’t working. Oh, here’s something.’ Freya watches as he clicks on a folder, simply called video. ‘Our hidden cameras?’ he asks, clicking on the first icon.

They’re .mov files, multiple recordings, seemingly one per day, the first a fisheye view of his office. Freya checks the date – it’s from Friday morning, and they watch as Jonathan goes into his study, picks up his laptop and bag, then walks out again.

Her breath catches in her throat. The air suddenly feels hot and thick. He’s wearing a suit and tie, and Freya remembers it from him arriving at her house later. He’s walking in his usual loping stroll, and Freya misses him so, so much. She’s been so absorbed in the case, she hasn’t stopped to think. About not seeing him again. About how this, this grainy shit black and white video, shows the last traces of his life.

‘You okay?’ Robin asks softly. She nods, sniffing back the tears.

‘He was just so…’ She pauses. ‘He was so much more than this.’ She taps the screen angrily. ‘This video. He was funny, and smart, and…’ She angrily wipes the tears away with the back of her hand, glancing around the incident room, relieved that none of their colleagues have noticed. ‘I can’t believe he’s gone.’

‘I know,’ Robin says, almost in a whisper. ‘And it’ll come back to you at the weirdest possible times. You’ll see traces of them in someone else’s smile. Or you’ll watch a TV programme and it’ll make you laugh because of something they said.’

Freya looks at him. She hasn’t stopped to appreciate just what Robin has been going through these past few years. She’s lost Jonathan, but he’s lost his entire family. Suddenly she understands him just that bit better. And how strong he must be to have kept going.