‘No. I had no idea. Dennis didn’t tell me.’ Veronica said a silent thank you to her husband for keeping the secret from her. She had grown tired of hearing about Andrew’s clashes with the law and had come to the conclusion that what she didn’t know couldn’t hurt her. But her blissful ignorance had been sadly short lived. ‘It doesn’t look good,’ Veronica had to agree.

‘Why run? Unless he’s guilty of something.’ Francesca let the statement hang in the air.

‘They didn’t get on, but Andrew would never hurt his father.’

‘He’s hurt others though, hasn’t he?’ Francesca had given up on Andrew a long time ago.

Unsurprisingly, his mother was determined to defend him most of the time. But since his disappearance a doubt had seeded itself in her mind. What was Andrew capable of? She wasn’t sure she knew him at all.

‘The police won’t give up until they’ve found him. Stupid boy, running away like that. He can’t hide forever.’ Francesca’s statement shocked her sister.

‘You think Andrew is responsible?’

‘I think the police think he is,’ said Francesca reining in her opinion.

‘Well, I think they are clutching at straws. My Andrew has made mistakes but he’s a good boy underneath it all.’

Francesca sipped her tea and kept her lips buttoned. It wasn’t her place to burst her sister’s bubble, especially given that she had just lost her husband too.

Palmer hung up the phone at Parkside Police Station, having just spoken to the British Transport Police about the whereabouts of Andrew Wade. It seemed his car had been spotted on CCTV heading south on the A1 towards London. Later the car was seen turning off towards Luton and a few hours later they had tracked it, using camera footage from Saturday afternoon, all the way down to a spot near Basingstoke in Hampshire.

‘Shit,’ Palmer said to himself as he approached Elly Hale’s desk.

‘Everything alright?’ She looked up at him over her glasses.

‘Andrew Wade. Seems he was headed to Portsmouth, most likely so the little runt could get a ferry, I suspect. I need you to get onto border control and see if they have any record of him leaving the country in the last twenty-four hours.’

‘Yes, sir.’ Elly Hale sprang into action. She loved the chase, which the job provided.

‘Singh!’ Palmer beckoned the sergeant over. ‘I need you to get me as much background information as you can on a Mrs Wendy Matlock. Here’s the address,’ he said handing over a scrap of paper. ‘I want details from you as and when they come in.’