‘And he inherited the business?’ Branson asked.

‘Well, he sold the business off soon afterwards for about thirty thousand pounds. He returned to the UK and a couple of years later he received a caution from Brighton and Hove Police, for a minor assault that occurred in a late-night taxi queue altercation, so we have his DNA on record. But, other than that, he’s clean.’

Branson stared at him. ‘That’s very interesting indeed, Martyn. And it could well be extremely significant. Well done.’ He made a note. ‘OK, the next thing I have from the Digital Forensics Team is Eden’s lack of activity on social media. She normally posted daily on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram. But there’s been no activity on any of her accounts since 7.17 p.m. last Thursday August twenty-ninth. This coincides with the very concerning report from the Outside Enquiry Team about the row a neighbour heard the Paternosters having on Thursday evening. And, subsequently, the sound of the Paternosters’ BMW being driven in the early hours of Friday morning, on a journey which has been plotted by the car’s onboard computer, tallying with the plot of Niall Paternoster’s phone from Digital Forensics and from a number of ANPR cameras that clocked the vehicle’s journey first to Ashdown Forest, then to Shoreham Harbour and then back to their home in Nevill Road, Hove.’

He paused to let this sink in before continuing. ‘Under Chris Gee’s direction, Forensics Teams have been deployed at Ashdown Forest, and the dive team, Specialist Services International, in the area around the harbour mole.’

‘Would that be at a mole-ecular level, boss?’ Norman Potting quipped, and chortled, looking around a sea of blank faces for an audience.

With everyone aware of the gravity of the situation with Grace’s son, even though Grace himself wasn’t present, no one was in the mood for Potting’s humour.

Branson gave him a withering glance. ‘Thank you, Norman. Chris will be giving us a significant update shortly.’ He looked down at his notes, then at DS Alexander again. ‘Jack, it says here that Eden Paternoster didn’t go into work at the insurance company, Mutual Occidental, last Friday morning.’

The Detective Sergeant nodded. ‘Correct, sir. She was expected at a staff meeting, at 8.30 on Friday morning, but she never appeared, nor did she phone in sick. I’ve got Polly going back to the company tomorrow to speak to her work colleagues.’

Branson turned to the Crime Scene Manager. ‘Chris, what can you tell us about the blood found in the Paternosters’ house?’

‘Quite a bit, sir. The Forensics Team found some recent bloodstains at the house. Some was in the kitchen, which Niall Paternoster claimed came from his cutting his finger on a potato peeler that was in a kitchen drawer while rummaging for a bottle opener. But that doesn’t explain a bloodstained T-shirt found hidden behind the panel in the en-suite – blood which the forensic lab has confirmed has Eden Paternoster’s DNA. As well as the blood found around the kitchen unit, which is a mix of both hers and Niall Paternoster’s.’