Lofthouse nodded. ‘You know, when coppers tell me they searched a room, I do tend to ask, considering how many times a second search is required in order to find the evidence we’re after—’

‘You reckon they just opened every drawer and read every piece of paper, and didn’t, for instance, lift up those heavy bookcases and filing cabinets?’

‘Of course, a normal human evildoer who was short of time wouldn’t have moved the furniture in his search either.’

‘So…’ said Quill, taking off his jacket.

‘I wish,’ said Lofthouse, ‘that I had come dressed for manual labour.’

They hauled every piece of furniture in the room out of its designated place. They revealed the remains of food, and a spider that must have felt they were hunting it down as it skittered from one hiding place to another. On the underside of a cabinet they found a cluster of obvious fingerprints in deep dust. Quill felt sudden copper glee. ‘If you were doing this fast, you wouldn’t bother with gloves, either.’

‘If they’re Tunstall’s, he can probably explain them away. Dropped his keys or something.’

‘Yeah, but at least it’ll give him an awkward five minutes under interview. It’ll be even better if we can find what he might have been after.’ He continued to search while Lofthouse put in a call to get some Scene of Crime Officers over to record the prints.

It was under the last bookcase he hauled away from the wall: something white and dusty revealed between it and the skirting board. A business card. Quill picked it up. It looked as if it must have been dropped down there by accident. He showed it to Lofthouse. One side was blank apart from a mobile number written in biro. ‘Relax in the Underworld’ said the lettering on the other side, with an address in Berwick Street in Soho.

‘A brothel,’ said Lofthouse.

Quill laughed. ‘I would have needed to look that up, ma’am,’ he said. ‘Excellent. We finally have some juice.’

‘Politically, it might be an idea to give this to Jason Forrest.’ Lofthouse said it as if she was sure Quill would say no, but she just wanted to put it out there.

Quill gave her her due, mentally rolled the dice, but finally shook his head. ‘No, ma’am, I’m going to keep that from him for the moment. We’re going to want to check the place out and I don’t want the main investigation crashing through there, perhaps disturbing evidence only we can see.’

‘James—’

‘I know, ma’am, on my head be it.’ He got out his mobile. ‘We can use the old reverse phone book to look up the number and see whose phone it is, but best foot forward.’ He dialled the number on the card. He waited a moment, then, without speaking, switched off his phone again. ‘Straight to voicemail, just the automated greeting.’