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Penn had to hand it to the boss. If she said she was going to do something, she did.

By the time they arrived at Donkey Pool, the team were going in for their second dive.

Penn had witnessed the team in action on many occasions and was always in awe. People didn’t always understand that they searched not only for submerged bodies, but were also involved in anti-drugs and anti-terrorism operations, as well as forensic evidence recovery.

Despite his admiration, it wasn’t a role he’d ever coveted. They had to face a number of environmental hazards like underwater structures, debris, industrial pollution, shifting currents and poor visibility.

The service had evolved over the years. He’d even heard about the use of trained dogs who could detect human remains underwater at depths of 150 metres. Given how in demand they were now, it was hard to believe that at one time the police had called upon the skills of the British Sub-Aqua Club to find submerged bodies before starting their own diving branches.

‘You know, one time I saw a dive team recover a five-centimetre hair slide that helped identify the body of an eighteen-year-old girl in an accidental drowning incident.’

‘Wow,’ Tiff said as they approached the dive captain.

Penn had met him on a previous case and knew the man went by the nickname of Ahab. Penn shook his hand before introducing Tiff.

‘Nice to meet you. Now which one of you thinks we didn’t do a good-enough job the first time?’

Although the jibe was good-natured, the man had a point.

‘Not looking so closely at foul play then,’ Penn said. ‘Now we’re trying to make a case.’

He shrugged. ‘Happy to double charge you guys, but nothing has changed since Tuesday. We’ll do one more dive and if you want any more after that, your department has got more money than sense.’

‘Got it,’ Penn said, spotting a familiar face on the other side of the lake. ‘Come on,’ he said to Tiff, heading over.

Harry Guestford from Lower Gornal was in his usual spot across the lake, watching proceedings.

‘Hey, buddy, how are you doing?’ Penn asked when they reached him.

‘Better if I could get some bloody peaceful fishing in.’

‘Yeah, sorry about that, but we’re just trying to locate James’s fishing gear. We’re thinking it might have gone in with him.’

‘Well, that ain’t very likely, is it?’ Harry asked, giving Penn a disgusted look. ‘Call yourself a detective. How’s he gonna fall in and take his chair, two rods, a rod stand, a bait box and a cooler in with him?’

‘Blimey, you had a good idea of what he had with him,’ Penn noted.

He shrugged. ‘It’s pretty much what we all have.’

‘You don’t think they’ll find his stuff in there?’ Tiff asked.

‘I reckon they’d have found it by now. No, somebody had that stuff away.’

‘You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you, Harry?’

‘Hey, fella, what you accusing me of?’

‘Pretty tempting,’ Penn said, nodding across the lake. ‘All that stuff just sitting there, unattended.’

‘Bloody hell, stupid and untrusting. Listen, my missus nags the life out of me for the space my stuff already takes up. If I turned up with more, I’d be out on my ear.’

For some reason, Penn believed him.

‘And you heard nothing on the grapevine about the stuff back then?’ Tiff asked.

‘Nah, the underworld fishing fencing ring has been a bit quiet lately.’ He offered a smile to take the sting out of his words. ‘But to tell the truth, if any locals had nicked it, somebody would have opened their big mouth about it.’

‘Fair enough,’ Tiff said as Penn glanced across the lake.

The second dive team were getting out of the water. Ahab waved across the lake and then shook his head.

Penn finally had his answer, and he was convinced that the equipment wasn’t in the water. He was also sure that none of the locals had taken the abandoned stuff, which left only one reasonable option.

James’s killer had taken it with them.