‘No way I would want to stay here for long.’ He was peering out at the row of windows that marked the individual rooms of a hotel just off the Duke of York’s roundabout on the outskirts of Dover. DS Rose sat next to him and it was just gone 8 a.m. Joel had been lying in bed with the case running through his mind when the idea had come to him to put ‘Danny Evans Football Agent’ into a google search on his phone. The name Marty Johnson had come up immediately with Danny showing among his list of clients. There was a contact number for enquiries and Joel had stared at a bedside clock showing 1.14 a.m. and contemplated calling straightaway. He had decided against it. He needed something from Marty Johnson and he figured he was far more likely to get it at a reasonable hour. He had made the call at 7 a.m. exactly and its reception suggested his idea of a reasonable hour was a little different from Marty Johnson’s. The agent had still been good enough to provide the name of Danny’s hotel with just a little persuasion necessary.

‘Not sure Danny Evans wanted to be here either,’ DS Rose said, already reaching for her door. The traffic noise increased tenfold the moment the seal was broken. Joel caught her up just as the doors to the reception parted.

‘In a rush, are we?’

‘Sooner we get in, sooner we can go again. I hate hotels. This job will do that to you.’

‘What makes you hate hotels?’

They were into the foyer. ‘The only time I ever come to these places now is for death or rape,’ DS Rose explained, speaking far too loudly in the sudden silence where the doors had sealed behind them.

Joel made eye contact with a slim woman who instantly sat straighter behind the desk as she stared over at them.

‘We’re police officers!’ Joel blurted, ‘which might explain my colleague’s rather dramatic entrance there …’

‘I see,’ the woman said. ‘Can I help?’

‘Yes, let’s start again. My name is DI Norris, this is DS Rose. We’re investigating an incident involving a man called Danny Evans and we understand he has been staying here for a period of time?’ Joel held out his warrant card to back up his story.

‘Mr Evans is here, yes. I have not seen him today.’

‘That’s OK. We need to have a look in his room. Can you help us with that?

‘Can I ask what this is about? I’m supposed to call the number we have for Mr Evans and ask permission, unless this is a matter of life or death?’ The woman stood up, her hand now hovering over a desk phone, and eyed both officers like she was suddenly suspicious.