‘Poland? Where you told us you’d visited her? How does that tie in?’

‘We had an argument not long after she was … after she disappeared. Her name was thrown into it, and I said I’d had a letter from her. That she had left because she couldn’t stand him. And that I was going to see her for a few days. Stupid, I know, but I just had to get out of there. The thought of what had happened to her … I felt suffocated. I wanted to see his reaction. He doesn’t give away much, as you’ve seen. But when I said that he looked surprised. That’s when I was sure that she was never coming back. I’m sure he had me followed. I’m pretty certain I saw one of his men near my hotel in New York. I guess he thought I might be having an affair. He knew I was lying about where I was, so it stood to reason that I might be lying about who I was with. He knew damn well it wasn’t Natasha. I’m sure he only reminded me the other day because he wants me to feel like a fraud telling you the same story.’

‘So you’ve known all these years? What about the police, Mrs Locke? Did you call the police? Did you try and tell anyone what had happened?’

‘And say what, Detective? I had no way to make sense of what I’d seen, who had done what. I couldn’t prove a thing. All I would have done would be to put myself and Gavin in danger. He might have taken Alexander’s name, but he’s still just a stepson in my husband’s eyes.’

Porter’s brain scrambled to make sense of what she was saying. Was Alexander Locke a part of what had happened to Natasha, or had they gone to him afterwards asking for help to cover it up, whatever it was? There was still the matter of all the other shit he was linked to. Bolton too. He was still firmly in the cross hairs for this. Davies was long dead, but who was the third man Locke met with, and where did he fit in? Porter had been so sure that Locke had been the one behind everything. Had he just been blinded by the need to call someone, anyone, to account for Natasha, and now for Gibson and Simmons too? He parked this for now, and steered her back on track to the night at the woods.

‘I was afraid to get out,’ she continued, ‘afraid that they’d see me. I could see them talking. They split up then. Alexander and the other man went into a pub by the car park. James and Oliver carried Natasha off into the trees.’