There were five more cases from 2005, then Kelly turned to a few more recent ones. She leapt to 2010, and a missing boy. He’d been on holiday with his parents in the Ullswater area and vanished one afternoon from their campsite. The family had been camping south of Pooley Bridge in the extremely popular south shore of Ullswater. Kelly had plenty of knowledge of the area. Not only had she pursued police work there, she’d been on plenty of runs up there too, and the last time had been this morning with Johnny. The road was hell during peak season, and it would be quite easy for a young boy to be whisked away from such a busy camping area, she thought, and that’s what the officers investigating had concluded too after all leads had been investigated and dismissed. The family was left with the awful realisation their twelve-year-old son had probably got into a vehicle and left the county by sunset the same day. Other police forces had become involved in the case, making it a national enquiry, but again, Kelly hadn’t heard of it. She was saddened but not surprised at how many missing children’s cases didn’t get resolved.

She leant back and stretched. Nothing had jumped out at her so far. She’d read eight files back to back, and found no discrepancies. One thing, though, that she noticed hadn’t been done, was a timeline. It was always possible that any number of cases around the same area, from around the same time, were connected, and she began sketching a drawing of dates and locations. What she came up with was a pretty, colour coded map of random events and random locations. She threw her pen down. This was more frustrating than a live case. Her emotions had gone from elation and excitement to desperate sadness and back again, in the space of a few hours.

DS Umshaw knocked and peered around her door.

‘Coffee?’ she asked Kelly.

‘Ah, you read my mind. I need to stretch my legs.’

‘I’ll get it.’

‘No, I need a walk. Seriously, Kate, I’m going to get fat if I vegetate any further reading case files from fourteen years ago.’

‘What are you doing?’ Umshaw asked.

‘Cold cases. Any news on Carla Rigg?’

‘Not yet. I’ve released the photo to the press department and it should be in the local evening news tonight. I’ve dedicated a helpline based at HQ and they’ve put three people on it.’

‘Well done, Kate.’

They walked to the coffee machine. Kelly wasn’t convinced that they’d seen the last of their Ms Rigg.

Chapter 8