‘Crime scene’s a mess of prints so we haven’t even bothered processing the DNA. It’s a waste of your money at this point, unless any of the prints throw up a person of interest. Obviously, if you hit a brick wall down the line, we’ll revisit that decision with your guv’nor. Based on past experience, DCI Fielding doesn’t like spending unless she’s pretty damn sure it’s going to move the case forward.’ He made an apologetic face. ‘She’s keen on clear-up but she likes to keep the top brass happy too.’

‘No bad thing these days.’ Paula pointed towards the evidence bags. ‘What about the clothes? Have you had a chance to examine them? We’re looking at an underlying sexual assault.’ She shrugged. ‘Might be something there?’

‘Harley went through them and I had a quick eyeball earlier, but I’m not hopeful. You know yourself how it goes when the killer’s abducted his victim. He’s usually careful and he usually gets her stripped as soon as possible. It’s not like a street assault, where you’ve got DNA all over everything.’

‘All the same… May I?’ She nodded towards the bags.

‘As long as you’re gloved and masked,’ Dave said. While Paula pulled a mask on, he brought over the bagged-up clothes, then turned back to his bench and started checking some bar charts on his computer.

Item by pathetic item, Paula went through the clothes. It looked as if Dave’s assessment was correct. There was no obvious sign of disturbance or of unexpected staining. The last item out of its bag was a fitted dark navy jacket with a line of small buttons up the front. It was clearly not new, but Paula recognised the signs of someone who took care of her clothes. There were no obvious stains on the front of the jacket and the buttons were all firmly attached. The inside of the collar was worn but clean, the lining intact though sagging a little along the seams. Finally, she went to check the cuffs for stains. What she found startled her. ‘Did you notice this, Dave?’

He looked up sharply, his brown eyes narrowing in a frown. ‘Did I notice what?’

‘There’s a button missing on the left jacket cuff. Look, there’s six on the right sleeve, but only five on the left.’

‘I never counted,’ he said, peering at the two sleeves where she’d laid them side by side on the bench. ‘Harley did the preliminary pass, I only took a very quick look.’ He took a magnifying glass from a drawer in the bench and studied the fabric. Then he turned the sleeve inside out and examined it. ‘There’s still some threads left, pulled through to the inside. That suggests a recent event, if she wore this jacket regularly.’