Porter nodded. ‘We have a DNA match to Gavin, so yes, we’re sure. We’ve got people checking local hospital records and I’m sure you’ll understand we’re concerned about her welfare after an injury like that. How well did you know Natasha yourself?’ He wasn’t sure how to refer to her relationship with Locke. She wasn’t his stepdaughter; Porter wasn’t even sure she was anything in terms of a formal link, so he opted for the safe option of using her name.

Locke cleared his throat. ‘She was my wife’s stepdaughter. I knew her, of course’ – he shrugged – ‘but we’d only been together a few years the last time either of us saw her, and she took it quite hard when my wife’ – he placed a hand over hers – ‘and her father got divorced. She and I were never that close.’

‘When was the last time you saw her, Mr Locke?’

‘Let me see, that would have been around the time her father died. I wish I could be more specific, but I’m sure you can appreciate that was some time ago,’ said Locke, loosening his tie and top button.

‘Is there anything either of you can think of that might help us find her?’ said Styles, deliberately using the plural to try to tempt Mary Locke back into the conversation.

‘We wouldn’t even know where to start after all this time,’ said Locke, giving his wife’s hand a gentle squeeze. ‘But if we think of anything we’ll be sure to give you a call. Now if you’ll excuse us, we have an event to attend this evening in the city and need to get ready.’

Porter nodded. ‘Of course, Mr Locke.’ He had more questions for both of them, to get a sense of what kind of girl Natasha had been, and he had the feeling that Mary Locke, at least, had more to share. Alexander’s arrival had most definitely brought down the shutters for now, though. Porter and Styles both stood.

‘We’ll see ourselves out,’ said Porter. ‘Thank you both again for your time, and we’ll be in touch when we have anything to share.’

They all shook hands, and Porter and Styles left the Lockes in their living room. Styles waited until they were beyond the gate and practically back at the car before he spoke.

‘One way or the other, I have a feeling that won’t be the last trip out here we do. There’s something they’re not telling us.’

‘Yep,’ said Porter. ‘I get the feeling more so from her than him. I think she was just about to open up, at least a little bit, before he turned up.’

Styles nodded. ‘Her body language as well; she was nervous enough to begin with, but when he walked in it was off the charts.’