Glancing around routinely, she took in the elegant, tidy room and saw that one wall was entirely book-lined. Mostly crime novels and true crime books, apart from some shelves that were filled with DVDs, almost exclusively again crime dramas and true crime documentaries. There were framed photographs of Niall Paternoster and, presumably, his wife above the ornamental modern fireplace, and more sun-faded photographs in the bay window at the front, one in a large silver frame obviously taken in a studio. There were several well-tended plants in modern pots and the inevitable huge, flat-screen television on the wall.

She noticed Niall Paternoster kept sucking on the index finger of his right hand. When he removed it from his mouth, a thin ribbon of blood formed.

‘Are you all right, sir?’ she asked.

He smiled sheepishly. ‘Yes – I cut my finger on a damned potato peeler.’

‘Vicious things, potato peelers,’ John Alldridge said.

Niall stared at him, unsure if he was making a joke. Alldridge’s deadpan expression gave him nothing.

‘Mr Paternoster, can you give us some details about your wife, please, and the reasons why you are concerned about her?’ Holly Little asked.

Over the next five minutes, Niall repeated the information he’d already given to the call handler as the officers went through their questions, the tall male one tapping away ploddingly with two fingers on a tablet.

When Niall had finished, the woman officer asked him, ‘Have you checked if your wife’s passport is here? Or has she taken it?’

He looked dumbfounded for a moment. ‘Well – I – I didn’t think to look. Hang on a sec, we keep them in a drawer in my office.’ He jumped up. ‘I’ll just check.’

He hurried out of the room then returned a couple of minutes later, looking shocked. ‘It’s not there,’ he said. ‘Mine’s in the usual place but hers isn’t there.’

‘Can you think of any reason why it isn’t there?’ Alldridge asked.

He shook his head. ‘No – none – it doesn’t make sense. We always keep them together.’

‘What access does your wife have to a mobile phone, an iPad, laptop or any other mobile electronic device?’ Little asked.

‘She has a phone, of course, and an iPad and laptop; she’s forever posting stuff on social media,’ Niall said.

‘Are any of them here?’

‘Her iPad and laptop are. She has her phone with her – she never goes anywhere without it – but it was very low on battery, which is unusual. I couldn’t get through to her when I tried to ring her. She told me she’d switched it off to save juice, but I kept trying in case she switched it back on.’

‘What about her car?’ Little asked.

‘It’s outside – the BMW Three Series convertible.’

‘And your own car?’ Alldridge asked.

‘I don’t have one at the moment. I lost my business – it went under – we share hers. I drive a mate’s taxi and occasionally use it if I’m stuck for transport.’