More than anything, his heart feels heavy, guilt about Kate mixed with anger. He realises he’s been in denial, not quite ready to take Jake’s pub footage seriously. He pushes away his empty plate and stands up. They need to find the driver.

‘And we’ve got a problem,’ he adds.

‘With the boss?’ Strover asks, standing up too.

Silas nods.

‘He won’t like it, us being down here off duty,’ he says. ‘He didn’t like the super-recogniser unit and won’t want to hear anything about Kate. Facial-recognition software is king.’

He starts to walk up the slipway towards the car park.

‘But if we can prove a connection with last week’s trial?’ Strover says, catching up with him.

‘That’s over, as far as he’s concerned. Gang sentenced, job done. Thirty-three years is a result – even made the national press.’

‘So what do we do?’

Silas stops in the middle of the village square to face Strover, glancing around to check that no one is within earshot.

‘We prove a connection with the Proactive Team’s ongoing investigation into county lines. The boss is right behind that one. Can’t get enough of it.’

The targeting of Kate a day after the sentencing makes Silas almost certain that there’s a link between the modern slavery gang that was sent to prison and the new county lines network that’s infiltrating villages around Swindon. He despises drugs, even more so since he’s seen the effects first hand on Conor. And the county lines gangleaders, the ones who groom the kids, some as young as ten, are no better than child molesters.

‘But we still don’t know who sent Jake the footage,’ Strover says as Silas walks on again, faster now, more purposeful. She has to trot to keep up with him.

‘Maybe someone who wants us to know there’s a connection,’ Silas suggests, opening the car doors with the remote.

‘Another gang?’ Strover asks, walking around to the passenger side.

Before Silas can answer, his phone rings. He holds up his hand towards Strover as he takes the call.

‘Thanks,’ he says, after listening for a few moments.

‘That was the insurers,’ he says to Strover. ‘Our friend Jake… seems like he took out a new policy on his boat four days ago.’

36

Kate

‘I need a drink,’ Kate says, frantically opening one kitchen cupboard after another.

‘What’s going on?’ Bex asks, standing behind her.

‘Why don’t we have any bloody alcohol in this house?’ she says, opening another cupboard. It’s full of identical tins of Illy Italian coffee. At least twenty of them. All Rob’s. She pushes them away to see if there’s a bottle of something lurking at the back. She knows it’s a forlorn hope.

‘Because you’ve been disappointingly sensible since the accident?’ Bex offers.