‘Do you think the fire’s connected?’ Jake asks, ignoring his question.

‘Did you talk to anyone?’ Silas repeats. He’s sorry about Jake’s boat, but he’s also annoyed with him.

‘I spoke to the landlady and the barman – not the man in the video,’ Jake says.

‘And were they pleased to see you?’

‘I’ve had warmer welcomes.’ Jake stares at his feet.

Silas shakes his head, glancing across at the narrowboat behind him. It seems to have sunk lower into the water, tilting drunkenly. ‘It might not be such a cosy country pub,’ he says. ‘More into drugs than draught beer.’ He doesn’t want to say too much.

‘County lines?’ Jake asks.

Silas nods, remembering that Jake used to be a crime reporter before he became a writer. County lines is a force-wide priority for policing in Wiltshire now, as it is for the whole country. Drug networks in London and Manchester, keen to develop new heroin markets, are extending their reach to towns like Swindon, targeting surrounding villages through secondary local lines.

‘You shouldn’t have gone,’ he says. ‘Should have left it to us. Looks like you poked the wrong bear.’ He glances again at Jake’s boat.

‘So what was Kate doing there?’ Jake asks.

‘That’s what I was hoping to find out.’

Silas has a horrible feeling that she wasn’t at the Bluebell by chance. Kate had taken to her police work, became intoxicated by her ability to identify criminals. He had too. It was like investigating on steroids. But the unit had to be focused and the priority at the time was modern slavery. When Silas started to suspect that the gang they were investigating might also have links to a new heroin network operating out of Swindon, he was told by his boss to stick to his brief and leave county lines to the force’s dedicated Proactive Team. It was a frustrating time for Silas and the super-recogniser unit, particularly Kate, who was not used to being told what to do.

‘What about the trial this week?’ Jake asks. He sounds tired. Desperate. ‘Is that why I was sent the footage?’

‘We don’t know yet,’ Silas says. He wishes he did.

Jake cuts a tragic figure as he turns to the boat and then looks back at Silas. ‘You think this is related to my visit to the pub today, don’t you?’ he says. ‘You wouldn’t have come out here at midnight otherwise.’

Silas feels a pang of shame. Is he really that transparent? ‘You shouldn’t have visited the Bluebell,’ he says. And nor should Kate.

‘The jerrycan was found over there,’ Jake replies, changing the subject. He points down the towpath and pauses, struggling to keep it together. ‘If I hadn’t been awake… The fire started above where we sleep. Where I sleep.’

‘Talk to DC Strover,’ Silas says. ‘You got somewhere to stay tonight?’