Clouds gathered overhead as Jai and I drove away from Gritton. The village that had been the site of so much death and suffering. The air was thick with moisture but still it refused to rain. We passed a couple of signs saying, Protect our heritage! No to the developers! I thought about the boy buried in the woods.

‘Where are we heading?’ I said.

‘Woodland about ten miles north of here.’

We eventually pulled up in the lane at the location we’d been given, half in a ditch which had been dry for weeks. I found myself not wanting to leave the car, but Jai was already outside, bouncing around like a dog who wanted a walk. ‘Are you coming?’ he said.

I dragged myself out, clicked the lock, and followed Jai into the darkness of the trees. A path had been marked out with tape. ‘These are hideous woods, aren’t they?’ I said. ‘A mess of dark, stinging, spiking unpleasantness.’

‘They said you can get in from the other side,’ Jai said. ‘But this way’s easier to walk.’

‘Quicker to walk,’ I said, extracting my hair from a bramble. ‘Not necessarily easier.’

‘Are you okay?’ Jai said.

‘Sorry.’ I kicked at a nettle which was tangling its way across the path. I wasn’t okay. I pictured Daniel on that narrow ledge, lifting the lamb and passing it to me. Had I really been so wrong about him? ‘He phoned me,’ I said. ‘I should have helped him.’

‘You did,’ Jai said. ‘We found him as quickly as we could. I don’t see what more you could have done.’

A small clearing came into view. Daniel’s van was at the centre, with a paramedics’ van next to it. The force medical examiner met us at the edge of the clearing. I raised my eyebrows at her and she gave a quick shake of the head.

‘Overdose,’ she said. ‘Injected himself. We don’t know if it was deliberate or accidental.’

I walked over to Daniel’s van and peered in. He was slumped in the passenger seat. The needle was still in his arm. I turned away.

One of the uniforms walked over and said, ‘No suggestion anyone else was involved.’

‘We can’t know that,’ I snapped.

I sensed the collective shoulder-shrugging that goes with the death of a drug user. I wanted to say, But he wasn’t what you think. He was functioning. It was for pain relief. He was okay. But that would do a disservice to those others. Those who weren’t functioning. Who weren’t okay. Those whose deaths were somehow regarded as less tragic than other deaths. And besides, this one was a murderer. No sympathy would be lost here.

‘I want us to search these woods,’ I said. ‘In case he’s got Violet hidden nearby.’ I may have been devastatingly wrong about Daniel, but I still hadn’t given up on Violet.