Nesbitt nodded. ‘Good, good. Might feel like a pain in the backside, but the sooner you get it done and get their thumbs up, the sooner you can get back to work properly. It’ll be good to put this mess behind us.’

Was that it, Porter wondered? Was Nesbitt trying to show his softer, caring side? He doubted Nesbitt would be calling it a mess to the dozen microphones shoved under his nose in a few minutes. How would it go? Something along the lines of best-in-class collaboration to bring down a nationwide criminal network.

‘Speaking of putting things behind us,’ Nesbitt continued. Here we go, thought Porter. ‘I was in a meeting with Superintendent Milburn this morning. He asked me to pass on his thanks for a job well done.’

Milburn had profited from Campbell’s downfall, annexing his command in addition to his own, at least in the short term. Since the debacle at Atlas, he had ordered the place pulled apart by forensics. Every crate opened, every shipping container checked from top to bottom. Anderson’s supposed protection had made them careless, and the quantity of drugs seized had astounded even Porter. Or was it Campbell giving them that feeling of smug security? How far the rot had set in with each of them was yet to be determined.

‘Goes without saying, we won’t be drawing anyone’s attention to Mr Locke too much, or those pictures of him posing with me. Anyone mentions it, I can barely recall meeting him anyway. One face in a thousand, that type of thing. Anyway, the evidence doesn’t support Locke being the one pulling the strings, so tomorrow’s headlines will be about James Bolton.’

Porter was stunned. He might be dead, but that didn’t mean Alexander Locke should keep his reputation. One he’d bought with drug money, at that. ‘But sir,’ Porter protested. ‘What about the interview with George Evans? Locke’s been at this for years. What about the fact he had some of ours on his payroll? Senior officers? He confessed to hiding Natasha’s body, for God’s sake!’

Nesbitt frowned, looking past Porter’s shoulder. Porter looked to see what had distracted him, and saw a couple of the journalists in the front row trying their best not to look like they were eavesdropping. He was fairly sure his voice hadn’t carried that far, but took a deep breath and lowered the volume.

‘We can’t just ignore that, sir,’ he urged.