Kelly stretched. ‘Heat’s turning up. That’s for sure. I reckon we might get a bit more help than we need.’ She turned around and noticed the people gathered behind her. ‘If they really gave a crap, they’d be visiting the town to see the situation for themselves.’

Her colleagues nodded and grumbled to one another and started to disperse. Kelly went to her office to call Ormond.

‘Kelly! News?’

‘We’re making progress, sir. My main concern is what’s being said in the national press. Have you seen the latest flag-waving from the opposition and the London mayor?’

‘I’m watching it now. And before you ask, yes, we’ve had directives issued from the Home Office. You do your job, DI Porter, and I’ll do mine. You’re the SIO on this case – for now – and that doesn’t involve policy direction from the Met or the Home Office, as far as I remember the limitations of your rank, that is.’

Bastard.

‘Yes, sir.’

‘I’ll keep you informed of anything you need to know, and I’d like a full report on the efforts in place to find this Fenton chap, by close of play today. He seems to be at the centre of everything. I’m also considering splitting the investigation, and handing the Potton Park murder to somebody else. It’s frankly too much for you. You can concentrate on the Beacon Estate woman.’

‘You mean Keira Bradley, sir?’

‘Whatever.’

‘Sir, I strongly advise against a split. It would affect the strength and fluency of our inquiries.’

‘Really, Porter? Well if that’s the case, prove it by five p.m.’ He hung up.

Kelly stared at her phone. It all felt wrong. Her senior officers were supposed to trust her and support her. She’d proven herself on so many occasions since moving back from London. Her first case here had been huge: she’d taken down gangs from Ireland to Sarajevo, saving hundreds, possibly even thousands of young women from trafficking and prostitution. Her head spun. Why did she feel so powerless?

She walked back to the incident room in a semi-daze, looking around at the faces of her team. They gave their all to the job, sacrificing time with their families and friends to chase leads and catch bastards. Now it seemed as though those bastards were infiltrating her sanctuary and she didn’t know who to trust. Rob and Emma looked at her with concern, and for a brief moment she questioned even their loyalty. She felt sick. Her world was crumbling.

‘Boss? Emma’s found something you need to see.’ Rob was talking to her. She gathered herself and nodded.

‘In private,’ she said.

They walked back to her office and Emma opened her Toughpad: a tablet protected with a very thick cover.

‘What is it?’ Kelly asked.