‘This must be serious then.’

‘Quite the opposite.’ Victoria rounded her desk and sat, brushing her hair out of her eye line. ‘This morning, while you were gone, a woman came in. A woman called Rose Whitaker, with the rest of her family. They’ve come to report a missing person.’

‘Right.’ He braced himself for what was to come, fearing the worst, even though he knew from the context of the conversation so far that, on the balance of things, it wouldn’t be.

‘There’s no need to look so afraid. I’m not giving you the sack.’

‘Couldn’t even if you wanted to,’ Tomek said defiantly. ‘Only my mate, Nick, can do that.’

Victoria shook her head. ‘Now I’m starting to have second thoughts. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, after all.’

Tomek pulled out the chair opposite and sat. ‘No, no. I’m all ears. Shoot it, sister.’

The finger gun he fired at her didn’t land. She sighed heavily through her nostrils, and leant forward, resting her elbows on the desk.

‘I was going to instate you as SIO in the investigation.’

‘Me?’

‘Yes.’

‘Me?’

‘Yes. Are you deaf?’

‘Why?’

‘Because you’ve repeated yourself twice now.’

‘No, I meant why me?’

‘You’re doing it again. You keep saying the word, “me”.’

Tomek opened his mouth to correct her, but then he saw the smug smirk on her face, and understood. He feigned a laugh. ‘I get it. You’re being funny.’

‘Taste of your own medicine. I’m sure you would’ve done the same if things had been the other way round.’

Tomek chose not to respond to that because she was absolutely right.

‘I think you’ve earned the chance to have a go at managing an investigation like this on your own. You’ll be SIO, and that means managing everything that comes with it. Nick and I decided it’s about time. But we’ll keep a close eye on you, make sure you don’t fuck about with the budget and everything.’

‘Budget?’ Tomek’s eyes illuminated. ‘I get to play around with all that money?’

‘Fucking hell,’ she whispered with a shake of the head. ‘What have I got myself into. I⁠—’

She stopped as soon as she saw the smug smirk now on his face.

‘Touché, Bowen. Touché. But you won’t get much of it, I can tell you that for free. And I can only give you a reduced team as well.’

‘Why?’

‘Because there are other responsibilities. There’s too much going on right now to give you a full outfit.’

‘Fine. Who do I get?’

‘That’s your choice.’

‘How many?’

‘Two… at a push, three.’

Tomek didn’t even need to think about that. The names appeared in his head instantly.

‘Chey and Rachel.’

‘Why don’t you think about it?’

Tomek sensed the reticence in her voice.

‘I’ve made my decision. I want Chey and Rachel, please.’

As though they were players in an NFL draft pick.

She sighed slowly, trying not to let on that she was discontent with the decision.

‘Fine. You can have them. Now get out of here. The family’s waiting for you downstairs in meeting room one.’

CHAPTER NINE

Tomek had felt like a teacher running late for a parents’ evening with the smartest kid in the school. As he entered the room, the Whitaker family looked up at him, deeply unimpressed, as though they’d been waiting for hours and were wondering what their taxpayer money was going towards.

As he entered, he set a notebook on the table and introduced himself to the family. There were three of them in total. Rose Whitaker, a woman in her thirties who looked as though she’d taken fashion advice from Kate Middleton and the various tabloids that documented her every outfit choice, with the exception of the various bits of jewellery on her body. Her fingers were covered in diamond-emblazoned rings, a bracelet on each wrist, a large necklace with a heart-shaped pendant that dangled between the buttons of her shirt, and a pair of earrings that Tomek considered much more muted than the rest of the ensemble. Tomek didn’t like to guess at how much it had all cost, as it would have likely been more than he had in any of his bank accounts, and he was having such a good day already he didn’t want it to be dampened in any way.

Accompanying her, he quickly discovered, were Rose’s mother- and father-in-law, Daphne and Roy Whitaker, a couple in their late fifties who looked as though they’d been married for the past thirty years, and only some of those years had been enjoyable. They too looked as though they were wearing more than Tomek had to his name, except it was in the form of their designer clothing. Bizarrely, Tomek’s eyes were drawn to the man’s cufflinks: a pair of blue and red, diamond-encrusted commercial planes. Roy Whitaker looked like the type of man who was fairly easy going but had the capacity to switch at any moment, and not many people would like it when he did. Daphne Whitaker, on the other hand, sat upright, her lips pursed, a look of silent judgement drawn across her face. Tomek got the impression she was the mute master of the family who controlled them all with a flick of the head or a narrowing of the eyes.

‘So…’ Tomek started, suddenly feeling slightly intimated by them all. ‘I understand you wanted to report a missing person?’

‘Yes,’ Roy answered as he placed a hand on his wife’s lap. ‘Our daughter, Angelica.’

Tomek made a note of the name.

‘She’s our precious little angel,’ Roy continued.

‘I’m sure she is. When was the last time you saw her?’

‘We haven’t seen her in the past couple of days,’ Daphne answered, her voice thin, measured.

‘And you think she’s been missing this entire time?’