‘Yes, if the containers hold what you say they do, then all of a sudden Mr Henderson has some questions to answer.’

‘I told you, we don’t know for sure what’s coming in yet.’ Holm turned to the back. ‘Farakh, anything to add?’

‘I’m wondering how this works,’ Javed said. ‘How altering the shipping manifests helps the smugglers out. I mean it doesn’t stop the Border Force from picking out individual containers.’

‘You think Border Force officers could have been paid off too?’

‘No,’ Cornish said. ‘That’s unlikely because they’re on constant rotation. You’d have to nobble more than one of them. Plus their bank accounts and lifestyles are monitored.’

‘Port security?’ Javed wasn’t giving up.

‘We’re talking about a twenty- or forty-foot container weighing several tonnes. You can’t just pop it through a gap in the fence. Each container going in and out is recorded and there are number-plate recognition cameras to check each vehicle. Only registered truckers can get access to the port area.’

‘There has to be some reason this bloke is all of a sudden flush with cash.’

‘Yes.’ Cornish put the car back into gear and they cruised past the property. ‘And that’s where you come in. I need to access the manifests without causing suspicion. I need surveillance, logistical support, a way of tracking the containers. I need to get into Henderson’s bank account and I need a tap on his phone.’ Cornish shrugged. ‘I could get all that, but we’re a small force and it will take time. MI5 could do it with a simple click of the fingers.’

‘Sure, but we need to keep a lid on this.’ Holm turned to Cornish. He sighed, knowing his next words weren’t going to go down well. ‘And, for now at least, you need to steer the investigation in another direction. Western’s death was nothing to do with what goes on here at the port. Perhaps he had gambling debts, perhaps he had an affair and the relationship turned sour. Whatever, SeaPak is to be allowed to continue operating. Henderson needs to be left alone.’

‘No way!’ Cornish looked horrified. ‘I’m not letting go of this now.’

‘I’m not asking you to let go of it. I’ll get the manifests, the bank account details, surveillance, all that, but not a word of what we’ve discussed goes beyond your lips until this is in the bag.’

‘National bloody security again, right?’ There was anger all of a sudden. Sarcasm. Cornish’s easy-going manner of the past few hours gone. ‘You’ve got no jurisdiction here, no power to command me to do anything. I’m answerable to my chief constable and him alone.’