Back in Grace’s office, Branson devoured his food, sharing one of the chocolate bars with Grace, then went to pick up a couple of coffees, leaving Roy thinking back to his earlier meeting with Norman.

He had been keeping positive in front of Norman, but he was concerned about what he’d heard. Despite his bravado about being a tough bugger, Roy knew that, underneath, Norman was a vulnerable man who still hadn’t got over the death of his fiancée – if indeed he ever would. To cope with this new ordeal, he was going to need all the support he could get, particularly from himself, Cleo and all the team. He’d already spoken to Cleo on the phone and she was researching the condition and treatment so they could talk about it later. She was going to speak to her sister, who had experienced the same type of cancer and had been clear of it for over five years.

Glenn Branson came back in with two steaming coffees and dug his hand into the digestive packet, still there from earlier. He pulled out the last biscuit, proffering half to Roy, who shook his head, and polished that one off, too, in a shower of crumbs. Seeing his boss’s look of disapproval, he swept those onto the floor, as before. ‘So?’ he said.

Grace was pensive for a moment. ‘I’m even less happy having met him,’ he said. ‘The more I think about it, the less I like it.’

‘Even though he answered all your questions truthfully? I was watching his non-verbals, too.’

‘It’s not a foolproof test. Especially if someone knows they’re being observed – then it’s easy to manipulate. I just don’t like the man. You?’

‘I agree, boss.’

‘So, let’s recap on what we have. Niall Paternoster calls the police this morning. His story is that his wife, Eden, went into the Tesco Holmbush superstore to buy a bag of cat litter at around 3.15 p.m. yesterday. And he claims he’s not seen or heard from her since. You and I interviewed him, and his attitude was aggressive and defensive. Ordinarily with a misper, dependent on the risk assessment, we’d wait twenty-four hours after they were last seen before the enquiry could be elevated. Again, all dependent on the risk assessment.’ He glanced at his watch, then looked at his colleague. ‘Are you comfortable waiting, knowing what we have?’

Branson shook his head. ‘Not really, no.’

‘Nor me.’

Grace’s job phone rang. He answered, and almost immediately switched it to loudspeaker.

Branson recognized the voice of Velvet Wilde.

‘Boss, O2 have come back to me,’ the DC said. ‘I’ve got a plot of the two mobile phone numbers.’ She read out first Niall Paternoster’s. ‘Between the hours of 9 a.m. yesterday and 11 a.m. it was at one of a few possible addresses in Nevill Road, Hove. It then moved west to the vicinity of Parham House, near Pulborough, in West Sussex. It remained in that area until 2.45 p.m. when it headed east, stopping at around 3.15 p.m. in the vicinity of the Tesco Holmbush superstore just north of Shoreham. It remained in that area until approximately 4.20 p.m., when it returned to Nevill Road, where it seems to have remained until around 5 p.m. The phone then moved its position, via a road in Portslade and then Devil’s Dyke, towards Heathrow Airport and later that evening returned back to Nevill Road. Since that time it has been static in Nevill Road.’