Outside the room, the DI is jumpy as we move to a spot out of earshot of anyone else. ‘Mason’s passport’s been picked up – not quickly enough unfortunately. Seems he got on a ferry – it docked in Portsmouth an hour ago and he got away before we could notify border police there. We’ve traced him back to Santander, where he was picked up on CCTV driving a black Audi. Fingers crossed, if he’s headed for his house, we’ve got him.’

I frown. I can’t believe that after avoiding us for so long, Mason’s going to make it that easy. ‘Why’s he back?’

The DI shrugs. ‘Maybe he’s hoping to flog his investment opportunity to a few more idiots like Hampton. Maybe he needs the money.’

‘We should get someone over to his house. Straight away.’

The DI nods. ‘Ask Emerson. At this time of day, it’ll take Mason at least an hour to get home, probably considerably longer.’

Glancing at my watch, I nod. ‘Shall we go in, sir? Hampton’s already been there a while.’

The DI is brusque. ‘Don’t go all sympathetic on him, May. He’s a bloody criminal.’

He’s right, Hampton is a criminal. But desperation and hopelessness lie at the root of so many crimes.

‘Do we know why he wants to see us?’

The DI shakes his head. ‘Haven’t a bloody clue.’

James Hampton’s lawyer looks impatient as we go back in. Once we’re sitting down, he starts talking. ‘My client’s been thinking about your offer of reduced charges against him. He can’t be certain, but he thinks he knows who else might be involved in the porn ring.’

Sitting back, the DI folds his arms. ‘I thought your client had already told us everything he knows.’ He addresses James Hampton. ‘Have you thought how this is going to look in court?’

At the mention of court, James Hampton looks weary but as he glances at his lawyer, it’s obvious it’s a clumsy attempt to buy his way out of this.

‘If I were you, I’d advise my client to tell us exactly what he knows, or on top of everything else, we’ll add perverting the course of justice to the list of charges against him.’ Finished addressing the lawyer, the DI turns to James Hampton. ‘What is it that you’d like to say?’

‘I want the charges reduced.’ Hampton stares at the table. ‘I didn’t know the extent of what I was getting into. I was scammed.’

‘We’ll take your request into account once we’ve heard what you have to say.’ The DI’s voice is steely as he folds his arms.

Hampton’s face is ashen. ‘I think you should talk to Andrew Buckley.’

*