At Eden House, DS Kate Umshaw led the brief, and pointed to the map projected onto the whiteboard. She was a confident leader, Kelly noted, and it came as a surprise. DS Umshaw had always shrunk to the back of the room, beavering away in dark corners coming up with gems from hours of solid police work, but she wasn’t one to push herself to the front of the crowd and put herself on display. She was physically awkward, though wholly capable. Now, she spoke with determination and drive. Kelly sat back with the others and listened.

Castlerigg was marked with a red circle, and where the clothes had been found was marked with a blue circle with a green line showing the direction of her supposed route to the monument. Kate informed them that confirmation that the clothes belonged to Carla had been found inside the jacket: a wallet containing a single photograph of herself with an older man. It was a lead. The clothes had been left in a pile directly to the south of the ancient site, indicating that the girl had come from either the main road or several campsites in the area. She could have walked or been driven. There was no ID.

‘Who’s the guy?’

‘Don’t know, guv. He’s not recognised by us and there’s no name on the photo.’

Kelly noted the same dead eyes on Carla Rigg that she’d witnessed in the hospital. Also the same striking beauty and vulnerability, mixed with something else.

‘She’s clearly younger, guv. I’d say, compared to my girls, that she’s about fifteen or sixteen in this photo.’ Kate moved on. ‘Dentals were on their way to take moulds when she disappeared on us,’ she said.