“First thing this morning, one of the CSI’s found evidence in Franks’s flat that the victim might not be called Franks at all. There was a passport with a different photograph. We showed it to the agent who deals with Franks’s rental property, and he identified the man in the passport picture as Franks. The photo of our patient on the driver’s license, however, turns out to be a fake. The agent didn’t recognize our man at all. Apparently, they’ve been doing business entirely over email for the past three years. Haven’t even spoken on the phone.”

Atkinson said, “What? He’s stolen another man’s identity? Oh my god.” Harper wanted to kick him for his terrible acting.

Thrupp carried on, oblivious. “We checked his fingerprints against unsolved cases in the system. Should have done that to start with, but there was no reason to suspect the man.”

“What did you find?” asked Jo.

“A few years ago there was a spate of burglaries, all with the same fingerprint evidence, but we never found the perpetrator. Our man’s fingerprints were a match.”

“I don’t understand, sir. You said you had a confession to make,” said Harper. “I don’t see what you could have done wrong.”

“I made a judgment call. First thing this morning, I knew this man had committed a crime in stealing Gregor Franks’s identity, but I decided not to organize a guard for him because he was in a coma at the time of discovery. Why would a man in a coma need security? And now this has happened. So I have to take some of the responsibility for the injury to that poor porter.”

Atkinson was apparently studying his own shoes, in detail.

“The burglary offenses connected to this man weren’t of a violent nature,” said Jo.

“No.”

“Therefore you had no reason to believe he was a danger.”

“I suppose.”

“And, like you say, we’ll find him soon enough. He’s not going to get far, the state he’s in. Steve and I can join the search.”

“No. You need to concentrate on finding the girl—and the two women. We’ve still no leads on that. I’ll see you back at the station.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Oh, and I’d appreciate it if you used your discretion with what I’ve told you. No obligation, of course; you’re both upstanding officers. I don’t want a cover-up, just for you to keep it under your hats for the time being. Gossip, you know. I’ll be making a full report, detailing my decision-making process. Hopefully, the chief constable will see fit to accept my reasoning.”

“Of course, sir, no problem,” said Atkinson.

“Don’t beat yourself up about it, sir,” said Joanna. “Any one of us would have done the same.”