“I don’t know,” said Michelle. “I certainly wouldn’t want to make any rash promises. But when something like this happens, we do our best to go over the ground again and see if we can find something someone missed the first time around. A fresh pair of eyes. It works sometimes. But if I’m to be completely honest with you, I’d have to say we’ll not be giving the case full priority in terms of manpower.”

“Believe me, love, there’s plenty of crime going on around here now without you police spending your time digging up the past as well.” She paused. “It’s just that…well, I think I would like to know, even after all this time. I thought about it a lot the other day, when they came back with the DNA results and said it definitely was our Graham. I thought I’d got resigned that we’d never know, but now, well, I’m not so sure. I mean, if you can just find out what happened to him, and why…” She looked at her husband. “I know he’d like his mind set at ease before…well, I’m sure you know what I mean.”

Michelle packed away her notebook in her briefcase. “Yes, I think I know what you mean,” she said. “And I promise I’ll do my best.”

“There is one question I’d like to ask,” said Mrs. Marshall.

“Yes?”

“Well, you know, the way things happened, we never…I mean, our Graham never had a proper funeral. Do you think we could do that? You know, the bones…”

Michelle thought for a moment. “We might need them for a few days longer,” she said, “for tests and suchlike. But I don’t see why not. Look, I’ll talk to the forensic anthropologist. I’m sure she’ll do her best to release the remains as soon as possible.”

“You are? Really? Oh, thank you so very much, Miss Hart. You don’t know how much it means to us. Do you have any children of your own?”

Michelle felt herself tense up the way she always did when people asked her that. Finally, she got the words out. “No. No, I don’t.”

Mrs. Marshall saw her to the door. “If there’s anything more I can tell you,” she said, “please don’t hesitate to ask.”

“I won’t,” said Michelle. “Thank you.” And she walked down the path in the rain to her car taking deep breaths, shaken, flooded with memories she’d been blocking out, memories of Melissa, and of Ted. Now Graham Marshall was more to her than just a pile of bones on a steel table; he was a bright, easygoing lad with a Beatle haircut who wanted to be an astronaut or a pop star. If only she could figure out where to begin.

Banks met Annie at The Woolpack, a quiet pub in the tiny village of Maltham, about halfway between Gratly and Harksmere. On his way home from Manchester Airport, he had debated whether to call her, and he decided in the end it would be a good idea. He wanted to talk to someone about what he had just learned, and Annie was the only person he had told about the incident with the pervert down by the river. It shocked him to realize that he hadn’t even told his ex-wife, Sandra, though they had been married for over twenty years.