Would it make Libby feel even more guilty than she already did? he wondered. Or would the knowledge that another man had broken Rachel’s heart give rise to a sense of anger rather than pity?

‘I feel that each time we take a step forward we then have to take two steps back,’ Abbott said. ‘Where do we go if Ethan Prescott turns out not to be our man? And Mark Slade as well, for that matter?’

‘We’ll do what we always do in those circumstances and start over again,’ James replied. ‘That’s why I’ve begun the process of going back over all the statements and notes we’ve taken. We might have missed something because when those few suspects emerged, we convinced ourselves that the killer had to be one of them. You’ll know yourself that it happens with some investigations.’

‘You’re not wrong there, guv,’ Abbott said. ‘The nightmare scenario for us, though, would be if Rachel was murdered by someone who just wandered into the hotel through the back gate and wasn’t known among the guests and staff.’

James made a noise in his throat and said, ‘That, Jessica, just doesn’t bear thinking about.’

Officer Hartley opened the door to them when they arrived at the Elliotts’ house in Bowness. The first thing she told them was that Libby had just left.

‘She knew you were on your way here to provide an update, but after receiving a text message she insisted she had to go,’ Hartley said. ‘Claire went with her, so I expect she’ll drop her off before going on to wherever she needs to be.’

James frowned and couldn’t help wondering if Libby had left in order to avoid speaking to them. It seemed odd that she hadn’t stayed to find out what was happening with the investigation, but he pushed the thought to one side as he stepped into the house and followed Hartley into the living room.

Rachel’s parents were sitting side by side on the sofa waiting for them. They both looked exhausted, their faces gaunt and colourless.

‘Good day to you, Mr and Mrs Elliott,’ James said. ‘May we sit down?’

Fraser Elliott gestured at the two armchairs facing them. ‘Of course. Please.’

Officer Hartley remained standing with her back to the door, notepad at the ready.

Denise Elliott was the next to speak, her voice barely above a whisper.

‘Have you found out who killed our daughter yet?’ she said. ‘Please tell us that’s the reason you’re here.’

James felt a knot tighten in his throat. ‘I’m sorry to say that we haven’t, Mrs Elliott. However, we are still—’

‘But what about the Italian man you arrested yesterday?’ she cut in. ‘Her so-called “boyfriend”. Why haven’t you charged him?’

‘Because he didn’t do it,’ James answered. ‘Evidence has emerged that proves he was not at the hotel when your daughter was killed. He’d returned to his flat in Ambleside at that point and he remained there for the rest of the evening.’