‘You can see why we’re concerned, though, right? We’re not talking about a drunk, or an addict, or a person with mental health issues, or a serial runaway. We’re talking about a highly successful businessman who might have trampled people, turned people over, on his way up the ladder.’

‘There’s no “might have” about it. Ben does exactly what he wants, and screw everyone else. He’s destroyed people. Have you heard of Alex Kolnik?’

‘We’re talking to him this afternoon.’

‘I doubt he’ll have many nice things to say about Ben.’

‘We’ll see.’ He drank from his ‘Property of the BOSS’ mug and then held a finger up as if he’d just remembered something.

‘What was this meeting at the country park all about, by the way?’

‘Ben texted last night and said he wanted to talk to me, in private.’

‘About what?’

‘He didn’t say. Just that it was important. Presumably it was about Mel.’

‘And he couldn’t just ring you up?’

‘He wanted to do it face-to-face.’

There was a muffled knock on the door of the interview room and Naylor called for the visitor to come in. A young officer leaned in, apologised for interrupting, and handed Naylor a folder with the words Forensic Support Unit in thick black letters on its front cover.

‘From the FSU, boss. Just came in.’

‘Much obliged, James.’

Naylor opened the file so I couldn’t see the contents. He scanned the two sheets briefly, grunted with something that was either satisfaction or disappointment – I couldn’t tell which – and passed it over to Redford.

‘You said you saw his car at the country park this morning?’

‘His Aston Martin was in the car park. Did you see it?’

Naylor shook his head.

‘Nope. Was Mr Delaney in the vehicle at the time?’

‘No. He got there before me.’

Naylor’s icy-blue eyes regarded me, studied me.

‘On the subject of cars, though, we have found something else. In circumstances that cause us concern.’

‘What?’

‘You asked me earlier why it wasn’t PC Khan who came out to meet you at the country park this morning.’

I nodded, and he continued.

‘A Porsche 4 x 4 registered to Mr Delaney was found on Friday, three days ago, in an alleyway next to some lock-up garages. This is about half a mile from the Premier Inn where you two had your falling out.’

‘The big white one, the Cheyenne or whatever it’s called?’

‘Cayenne. That’s the one.’

‘And?’ I prompted.

‘Someone had tried to burn it out. But they didn’t do a very good job.’

Chapter 32

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