‘He didn’t like me being in the shop because he didn’t want customers seeing me, he’d turned the notice on the door round to Closed the minute I’d shown him my warrant card, and I get that, but he was twitchy . . . he gabbled a bit. I don’t know.’ Denzil shook his head. ‘Sounds like a load of nothing, doesn’t it?’

‘Not necessarily. Did everything look as you’d expect?’

The DC shrugged. ‘No idea, guv, never been in a Chinese pharmacy before, but yeah, it was all neat, well arranged and very clean. I went into the back, tiny little office area and a stockroom, all orderly. No rubbish lying about, very hygienic.’

‘What’s your plan?’

‘The thing is, I’ve no reason to go back, have I?’

‘There’s always a reason, you make one, you’re checking on something he said, or on a date or a time, you ask if he’s heard anyone in the flat since you were there, seen anyone hanging about outside.’

‘Could do.’

‘Listen, you haven’t been here long and I don’t know you very well but you don’t strike me as being unconfident, so have faith in your own judgement. What’s the worst that can happen?’

‘I get nowhere. Again.’

‘What else are you working on?’

‘Filing a report on two break-ins. Nothing interesting.’

‘It’s all interesting, DC Aberra.’

‘Guv.’

‘Finish your report – I have a feeling two break-ins at the Old Ribbon Factory apartments might turn out to be a few more.’

‘I’m with you there. More than half those places are unoccupied during the day, that’s well known, easy enough for anyone to clock, wait till mid-morning when they’re all safely behind their desks. Burglar’s paradise.’

‘Right, I want you staying on that for now. Go back over your notes, see if there’s any pattern, any link, which I’m pretty sure there will be, then go over there, sit in your car, walk about, move, rinse and repeat, you know the drill. Keep in touch, take photographs of anyone hanging about. It’s a slow game but this is just the time we might catch someone in the act . . . and if there’s nothing today, go back tomorrow.’

Denzil left, looking downtrodden. Serrailler didn’t blame him. He had given the new DC a perfect example of the dead-end jobs which, once in a blue moon, came good. For the time being he wanted the DC kept busy and away from Starly. When a member of CID had been identified in a particular place, he was better deployed elsewhere, if possible, until people lost interest.

By five to three he was parked at the hospital and checking his phone. Seven work emails. Nothing from Rachel. So, she was away, seeing friends, in the bookshop, at the hairdresser, somewhere else which had no phone signal. Where?