‘Maybe,’ Louise said. ‘Although not tomorrow or Saturday. I’ve got a meeting in Worthing tomorrow. Then Saturday’s pretty full on with the kids’ activities. Let’s see if we can fit something in on Sunday?’

‘Only if you’ve got time,’ Dee said. ‘Otherwise, don’t worry. We can catch up next week.’

‘Great. I’ve got to go now. Just dropped the kids off and I’ve got a session with Pete before work.’

‘Pete?’

‘My PT. Catch you later. Bye!’

She hung up before Dee had a chance to ask what PT stood for. Deciding she was probably better off not knowing, she directed her attention back to her laptop, open on the table. A faded colour photo of two girls filled the screen. Gap-toothed and smiling, their arms draped over each other’s shoulders. A row of nondescript terraced houses in the background. The similarity between the two girls was impossible to miss, although if you looked closely enough, you could see that the taller girl had two different coloured eyes.

The girls were Emer and Kitty. Emer had emailed the photo last night.

One month before Kitty disappeared. Also, you might want to read up about Lucy Ryan. She was Kitty’s best friend.

Emer had included links to several archived stories about Lucy Ryan, along with a Facebook friend request which Dee had accepted.

Picking up her phone again, she scrolled through her list of contacts until she found the name she wanted. Leonard Mann, a journalist Dee had got to know the previous year, when she was investigating a murder that had taken place outside her house in Eastbourne. The victim, a young woman, had been at the centre of another murder that had happened in London ten years previously – a murder Leonard had covered extensively at the time.

Dee dialled the number, and waited.

‘Dee Doran, as I live and breathe. What a pleasant surprise.’

His voice hadn’t changed, still sounded as if someone had sandpapered his throat. A little frailer, perhaps, than when she’d first got to know him. Not surprising, given everything that had happened to him since then. His girlfriend and his oldest friend both killed in the same tragic event eleven months earlier. Dee knew that the loss of his girlfriend, in particular, was something Leonard was still struggling to come to terms with.

‘Hey Leonard. How are you?’

‘Getting by. Good days and bad days, as you’d expect. But the good days are becoming more frequent, which is something. I hope you’re calling to tell me you’re coming to London soon and you’d like to buy me that pint you still owe me.’

‘Actually,’ Dee said. ‘I’m in London at the moment. I was wondering if you’d like to meet up. There’s something I want to run past you.’

‘You know I quit working?’

‘I quit myself a few years ago,’ Dee said. ‘Remember?’