Her living space had all the essentials within easy reach. There were bookshelves full of biographies on the world’s most notorious serial killers, a widescreen TV for watching documentaries on the same theme, storage space under the futon for her files when she worked from home, and a log burner that was more reliable than the boat’s central heating. Unlike Claudia’s apartment, there was also plenty of clutter that meant she never had to worry about something being out of place. The boat had a cottage feel that continued into the galley, which had all the mod cons, including a gas hob, a fridge-freezer, and running hot and cold water. There was no excuse for the breakfast dishes piled up in the sink, but Leanne would leave any self-admonishment until Mal had finished giving her an earful.

‘I’m thinking how we can do this,’ he said. Leanne could hear him scratching the stubble on his chin. ‘Instead of doing one anniversary issue, we could stagger it over the next three weekends, with a special edition the following Saturday after the anniversary. We should have enough material. Frankie has a couple of stories on the bereaved families ready to go, there’s your piece on Claudia, and the one about Amelia Parker.’

‘Amelia who?’ asked Leanne before she had the good sense to bite her tongue.

‘For God’s sake! The girl who doesn’t know who dug her out of the rubble. Haven’t you set up the interview yet?’ he ranted. ‘I promised the parents you’d be in touch days ago, and I’ve given you the contact details for that bloke who carried her out. His name’s Rex Russell. Christ, Leanne, I’ve done half the job for you.’

‘OK, OK. But you definitely said you didn’t need that one until next week.’

‘To give you more time to investigate. It’s your job to find out who our mystery hero is, and I want a name before the anniversary. If necessary, we could run an appeal for information this weekend. That should help you track her down.’

‘You’re not asking for much, are you?’

‘Then you’d better get to it,’ Mal said, sounding brighter than he had at the beginning of their conversation. ‘No distractions, Leanne. Drop whatever else you’re doing.’

When Leanne ended the call, she scrolled through her call log. She considered giving Karin Gallagher one more try, but Mal was right. She had a job to do and couldn’t allow herself to become distracted. There wasn’t time. It was probably a good thing.

The Empress Theatre

Sedgefield, Cheshire

In those last precious moments when everyone thought the evacuation was as interesting as their evening was going to get, Rex Russell gave a gentle sigh. He had held back while others pressed forward, partly out of politeness, but also because he didn’t want to spill his popcorn.