She turned and called to Lynsey: ‘Can you ask round quickly to see if anyone was tracking a car that belonged to someone called Sharon?’

A few minutes later Lynsey stuck a yellow Post-it under Becky’s nose.

Becky scanned it quickly. ‘Sharon, can I check if your surname is Carter? Because if it is, you really were called by a detective from this office.’

There was a gasp from the other end of the phone. ‘What?’

‘There are no CCTV cameras at the Flash, so we’ve been looking at footage from nearby pub and petrol-station cameras, identifying cars with female drivers or passengers. Your car showed up about half a mile away. I gather it was weaving around a little.’

‘Oh shit. Am I going to be done for drunk driving now?’ she asked, her voice cracking.

‘No, we can’t prove that from CCTV. But you’ve been incredibly helpful. We know what time you passed, and you said it was about fifteen minutes after that when the other car appeared in the car park. Thanks to you we now know it was a larger than average saloon, and that a woman was in the back. That is a huge help. I’d like you to come down to the station, if you would. If you could look at the CCTV footage, you might be able to help us identify the car.’

‘But what’ll I tell Jez?’

‘Jez is your fiancé, I assume? It’s up to you how you handle it, but you might be able to help us catch this man.’

Becky tried to convince her that it was the right thing to do, but Sharon wanted to think about it. She gave Becky her mobile number, though, so at least they could call her without Jez answering.

For the first time Becky felt a slight glimmer of hope. It wasn’t much, but they could check the CCTV footage again in the vicinity for any dark saloons within a much narrower timescale, and then she would call Sharon back and persuade her to come and view the options. Maybe, just maybe, they were finally getting somewhere.

CHAPTER 20

20

As I reach Thea’s car – something small, sensible and white – I see her sitting with her head back, eyes closed, and through a window that has been left open half an inch I can hear the strains of classical piano music. I am almost too embarrassed to disturb her, but she seems to sense me standing by the door.

Her eyes open slowly and she turns to me with a sad smile. ‘Didn’t go well then,’ she says, and it’s not a question ‘Stick your bag in the boot and hop in. We’ll soon get you home, and we can have a glass of something to brighten the end of a dreadful day.’