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Gamble snorted. ‘His face was all over the news.’

‘Nevertheless.’

‘Noted,’ said Gamble.

‘And agreed?’ asked Ward.

Gamble paused. ‘Agreed. Your client attended Durranhill voluntarily.’

Without taking her eyes off the screen, Bradshaw asked Poe, ‘Durranhill?’

‘Carlisle’s newest police station. They moved there a few years after the 2005 floods wrecked the old one. Cost eight million quid and it looks like the back of a football stand.’

They turned to the interview.

‘And I’d also like it acknowledged that my client has not been charged with anything.’

‘Agreed, your client has not been charged with anything . . . yet.’

With those two small victories in the bag, Ward said, ‘My client is deeply ashamed of his small part in the terrible events of that night twenty-six years ago. He acknowledges he should have approached the authorities sooner than he did, but you’ll note that at no point was he involved in the planning or the execution of what happened.’ With his mitigation out of the way, Ward handed Gamble a document.

For the next five minutes no one spoke. Every now and then Gamble would look up in disbelief. Price and Ward remained expressionless.

Gamble put down the document and said, ‘I think it would be helpful if I summarised for the benefit of the video and my two colleagues.’

Ward nodded.

‘Your client was one of six men invited to a charity auction on Ullswater. He knew something illegal was going to happen as the invitation was coded.’ Gamble looked up, and although he already knew, he asked, ‘Coded how?’

Price spoke for the first time and his voice was as croaky as Poe’s had been two days earlier. ‘The invitation had an archaic punctuation mark in the title. It’s called a percontation point and it means—’

‘I know what it means, it means there’s an underlying message in the preceding sentence.’

Price and Ward looked at each other. Ward said, ‘May I ask how you have knowledge of this? It is unused today.’

‘No, you may not,’ Gamble said. He continued. ‘Your client believed that the cruise was a cover for an adult party. High-class call girls and unlimited cocaine. Have I understood that correctly?’

‘You have,’ Ward replied.

‘And for this he was willing to pay, upfront I may add, twenty-five thousand pounds?’

‘He was and he did.’

‘Twenty-five grand for some hookers and coke? Bit steep, wasn’t it?’

‘My client was not familiar with the going rate for such things. Naivety is not a crime.’

Gamble did an admirable job of keeping calm. Just watching the interview through the medium of a small laptop screen was making Poe’s teeth itch. The whole point of Price’s statement was to limit his exposure to the bad stuff. He would admit what could be proved and deny what couldn’t.

‘And once he got on board, he realised it wasn’t cocaine and prostitutes, but children that were for sale?’

‘That is correct.’

‘The four boys Hilary Swift had brought with her to act as waiters?’

Price tried to suppress a smile. Poe could tell that even after all this time he was still getting off on it. ‘There were six of us but only three boys were available. Carmichael kept one for himself. He wanted us bidding against each other to drive up the price,’ he explained.

Ward put his hand on his shoulder: ‘I do the talking. The boys – just like my client – were unaware they were the star attractions, and by the time Mr Price realised what was happening, the boat had long left the shore. He had no choice but to go along with it.’