Joel pushed the file away like it might make him feel better. It didn’t. Papers still spewed out of its side and others were scattered across his kitchen table. After their conversation with Marilyn Luckhurst, Joel had sent them both home, announcing that they had an early start and a long day expected the next day. There was nothing more they could achieve by going back over the same material again and again. But Joel had failed to heed his own advice, scooping up everything he needed to be able to do just that.

He looked up longingly towards the kettle.

‘Is that your murderer?’ Michelle appeared to sweep past him and hover over the table. She gestured at where he also had his laptop open. He had dared check his email, opening one from DS Andrews, who was sharing the findings of his two officers who had finished their review of the hotel CCTV. It was good work too, at least as good as it could be. The hotel had only one camera that was of any use, covering the main entrance, and they had gone through three days of movements so far. Joel had been sent a still image of the only man hotel staff couldn’t identify in that time. It was last thing on the Tuesday night. The image was terrible. It was a man though, he was sure of that. His dark grey jacket hung on broad shoulders, he had matching trousers and a blob of brown for shoes. His feet were captured mid-stride; the shoe at the back was the closest to the camera and might have a blur of blue too. To further add to his frustration, the face was completely obscured by the rim of a hat. Overall, it was as good as useless. He had still forwarded it to DS Rose. He didn’t think she would see anything he couldn’t but he was trying to ensure he shared everything.

‘It could be anyone, if I’m honest,’ Joel said and pushed his laptop shut.

‘The kids are upstairs. They’re waiting for their dad so they can read him a bedtime story,’ Michelle explained.

‘No, they’re not.’ He leaned back to grin at his wife.

‘No, they’re not,’ his wife agreed, ‘they’re on their iPads. Abigail said she can already read every word ever so why does she have to keep doing it and Daisy will only read to you if it’s the instructions on how to make slime.’

‘How to make slime?’

‘Your project for the weekend, she says. You promised apparently. Assuming you get a weekend.’

Joel sighed. ‘I’ll try and get something. Making slime can’t take that long, can it?’

‘Monday and you’re already having to try.’

‘Monday and I’m saying I don’t break promises to my girls.’