‘She could have had an accomplice?’ Hale offered.

‘But then why wait eleven years. If she has back-up then she doesn’t need to wait until Longman is weak. She’d have killed him much sooner.’

Hale hesitated for just a moment.

‘OK, I see the logic. But I don’t like this. We’re finding reasons not to investigate viable suspects. I’m worried we should be looking at some of these other people.’

‘I agree, and if it comes to it then we will. But for the moment we just need to find a way of prioritising the more likely suspects. The likes of Hirst and Allan aren’t off the hook. If the files on table three end up giving us nothing, we’ll go back to the others. But we don’t have anything like the resources to do them all at once, so for now we haven’t got a choice.’

Hale took a deep breath. Levy could tell that he had no argument left. He knew that she was correct.

‘OK,’ he finally said, passing the file back to Sally Ryan. ‘Then let’s put her back on two.’

Levy turned to her fourth team member to ask for his file, but was interrupted by a young officer who had approached from across the room.

‘Ma’am, I’m sorry but there’s a call for you.’

Levy looked up. She was irritated that the process had been stalled just as it was starting to roll.

‘Take a message and tell them I’ll call back,’ she said, returning her attention to her team.

The officer seemed uncertain. Levy’s voice carried a natural authority when she wanted it.

‘The caller says that’s it’s very urgent, ma’am.’ The voice lacked confidence, but he continued nonetheless. ‘I really think you need to take the call.’

Levy looked up again. And this time she paid attention. It took her a few moments to place the young officer, until the name Ollie Cleary came to her. A new recruit to MIT One.

Levy turned back to her six-man team and to Hale.

‘Excuse me,’ she said as she rose to her feet and followed Cleary to the other side of the room, where the telephone was waiting.

‘This is Levy.’

‘Hi Joelle. This is Sarah Truman from ITN. We met at Phillip Longman’s home yesterday.’

‘Yes. I remember. What can I do for you, Miss Truman?’

‘I have some information for you, on the Longman case. I think whoever murdered him has killed again.’

TWENTY-TWO

Sarah looked at her watch: 3 p.m. The distance from Grays Inn Road in London to Mill Lane in Southwold was around 120 miles. A little over three hours, door to door. Sarah had arrived fifteen minutes earlier.

Levy and her team can’t be far behind, Sarah reasoned.

Alex Redwood had contacts in the Suffolk police. That much was clear. But Redwood was no longer a part of the story. Twenty minutes of enquiries had proved that the deceased Adam Blunt was the man Sarah had suspected. A well-known lawyer who had retired to Southwold over a year ago. His identity alone raised a likely connection to Longman; two retired lawyers, murdered in their homes within a forty-eight-hour time frame.