‘Height isn’t an exact predictor for shoe size. We’re all different – some tall people have tiny feet, some short people have huge feet. From my experience, a man that tall could wear a shoe size anywhere between a nine and a fourteen. Dabs told me about O’Reilly, so as soon as I get the fingerprint developed I’ll check it against O’Reilly first and let you know the result.’

‘Thanks. Catch you later.’

‘Come on, spit it out, what’s bothering you?’

‘Nothing. I’ve literally been on my feet and hardly slept in the last two days, so I’m really tired and irritable.’

She desperately wanted to tell Paul her suspicions about Kingston, but knew he would say not to jump to conclusions and wait for the fingerprint result on the Chubb key.

‘Then go home and get some rest.’

She gave a mirthless laugh. ‘I wish life was that simple.’

She put the phone down.

As she walked towards her car, Jane saw two men sitting in a vehicle parked behind hers. The passenger was leaning to one side and looking at Jane’s reflection in the wing mirror. She felt a sense of unease as the passenger opened his door and began to get out of the car. Her anxiety increased when he looked at her; she wondered if her cover had been blown and the Ripleys had sent someone to get her. The man was dressed smartly in a suit and tie but he had a menacing look about him. He started walking towards her and she knew she only had two choices – to run or to stand her ground. Her head was spinning, and she wondered if her physical and mental exhaustion was making her imagine things. The man put his hand inside his jacket and for a moment Jane was paralysed with fear. She closed her eyes, thinking this was the end.

‘WDS Tennison? I’m Detective Chief Superintendent Leonard Bartlett.’ He spoke in a West Country accent.

She opened her eyes to see he was holding up a warrant card, but she didn’t recognise the police crest badge.

‘That’s not a Met warrant card,’ she said nervously.

‘I know, I’m from Dorset Police – same as DI Wickens, who’s me driver.’ He nodded towards the car. ‘I appreciate you’re very busy, but we’d just like to have a quick word with you.’

‘What about?’

‘I’d rather we spoke in the car.’

She remembered Dabs referring to Dorset Police as the ‘Sweedy’ when they first met.

‘Are you from Operation Countryman?’

‘Yes. I’m in charge of it, as it happens.’

‘Why do you want to speak to me? I haven’t done anything wrong.’