The old man who’d reported them turned out to be a mine of information and shared it with them readily. The death of the woman who’d inadvertently given him the bird had affected him profoundly, and he wanted to do all he could to help. He told them that he’d spent years watching the couriers coming and going, and knew which flats they went into and who he suspected of being responsible for grooming youngsters into skipping school and turning bad. He was like the guardian angel of the estate and he never stopped talking, giving them names associated with their current lines of inquiry and addresses where he’d seen the Cotton brothers hang out. The only downside was that Kelly’s team would have to follow every one of his leads, even if it turned out to be pure sour grapes or poor memory.

Kelly was ploughing through HOLMES. As information came in to the incident room, it was uploaded onto the IT software. Its compatibility across all county constabularies in England, Wales, Northern Ireland and Scotland, as well as the Royal Military Police, made it uniquely invaluable to any major investigation. A question could be put to the database and answers, in order of relevance, would be forthcoming in minutes. It was like having two hundred extra officers working in the incident room. For officers like Emma and Rob, it was a wet dream. Their analytical skills were constantly being pitted against the machine, and sometimes they beat it to conclusions. It was something of an office challenge.

They all needed their light relief.

Statements from witnesses flooded in from the Beacon Estate, and every one of them mentioned that their stimulus was a word from Sharon Bradley. This could be a double-edged sword: testimony that might prove crucial at trial could be made to look like coercion of a witness by the victim’s mother. It was emotive stuff and utterly biased, thus useless in court should it be their only evidence. All the statements deriving from Sharon’s network on the estate would have to be verified by independent sources or scientific fact.

Sharon was doing a fine job of bringing an end to her various disability benefits as she whirled around the estate drumming up momentum for their inquiries. Kelly had found out that she had been in a horrific car accident several years ago and had used a stick to walk ever since. Though Sharon’s new purpose in life had given her more vigour, Kelly wasn’t about to report her as a benefits cheat; the woman had had it rough.

Rob disturbed her train of thought.

‘Boss, reports are coming in of an organised police raid on the Beacon Estate. By all accounts it’s chaos down there.’

Kelly couldn’t believe what she was hearing.