‘Funny thing about being a parent,’ Alan Simmons continued. ‘You feel every bump and scrape in the playground like it was you that had fallen. Imagine how this one measures on that scale.’ He inclined his head towards his daughter. ‘If you’re as good as she thinks you are, I’m sure you’ll find him. When you do’ – he leant in closer still, all the softness gone from his voice – ‘I wouldn’t judge you if you chose to stop being a good man, because the man that did this to my daughter doesn’t deserve the kind of justice a good man would offer.’

He released his grip and backed away into the room, leaving Porter in the corridor, wondering what kind of justice he would give to the man driving the car that killed Holly, and whether James Bolton deserved any better.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Porter had promised Anderson and Whittaker they would be back at the station for 2 p.m. for both pairings to update each other before they went to Campbell and Milburn, but they weren’t at their desks when he and Styles walked back into the room. He checked in the two nearby interview rooms while Styles went to get coffee, but found them both empty.

Porter spotted Constable Chris Reid, one of the younger officers, slouching back in a chair. Reid was in his early twenties, boundless energy for the job and a desperate desire to make a good impression on the more senior detectives. Porter explained the situation around the camera, and Reid nodded eagerly. Task successfully delegated, Porter went back to his desk to check his voicemail while he waited, and had just put the phone back in its cradle when Styles reappeared.

‘Forget your coffee?’

Styles shook his head, and Porter could tell from his expression that something was bothering him.

‘Everything OK?’

‘Anderson and Whittaker are upstairs.’

‘I wondered where those lazy bastards were hiding.’

Styles shook his head again. ‘Something’s going on. They’re in with Campbell and Milburn.’

‘Already? We’re not meant to brief them for another three hours.’

‘You think they’re sucking up to make sure their case gets priority?’

‘No idea, but whatever it is they can at least do it to our faces. C’mon.’

Porter jumped up and followed Styles upstairs. They found the four men two floors up, in a meeting room usually reserved for the high and mighty rather than the rank and file. Anderson was the one talking as they approached, miming his thanks to the thick glass wall. Whittaker sat ramrod straight in his seat, looking a little unnerved. Campbell and Milburn sat at the opposite end of the table, listening intently as Anderson spoke, like two presiding judges.