Jameson passed through the ticket barriers and walked towards Platform 1c for the Harrogate train. He’d pick up the rental car, drive to Manchester and call Libby Goodman on the way. He squeezed on-board and into a seat beside a large lady with five big shopping bags. She shuffled her significant backside and nearly pushed him off the seat.

‘Sorry,’ Jameson said as he pushed himself back on. Why was he apologizing? And that was when it hit him. The thing he had missed. The type of thing he’d been trained to spot. Shit. He was losing his touch. He stood and moved to the end of the carriage. The train wobbled and he almost fell, grabbing the handrail above to steady himself. Sarah’s phone went straight to voicemail. He checked his watch. She would be in her meeting with the Chief Executive. He googled Leeds Hospital and found a number, but halfway through the instructions for selecting a specific department, his phone lost signal.

‘Shit!’ he said loudly, and the people standing nearest looked his way.

No reception.

Jameson closed his eyes and took three very deep breaths. Now was not the time to panic. He’d been an idiot. Bloom had warned him and he had dismissed her concerns. But she’d been right: they knew about Sarah. That businessman in the designer suit and the Breitling watch was Stuart Rose-Butler. He remembered him from the photograph on Libby Goodman’s mantelpiece.

One bar of reception. He dialled the hospital again.

‘Good afternoon. Chief Executive’s office.’

‘This is Dr Jameson from the BMA. I need to get an urgent message to my colleague Dr Sarah Mendax. I believe she’s in a meeting with your CEO.’

Getting past the gatekeepers was all about the right credentials.

‘I’m sorry, Sir, Dr Mendax isn’t here.’

Jameson felt panic rising and suppressed it. ‘Is that because she failed to turn up?’

‘The meeting is off-site. Have you tried Dr Mendax’s mobile?’

Gosh, no, I hadn’t thought of that. ‘It’s turned off. Could you tell me where the meeting is, please?’

The PA fell silent for a few moments. ‘I don’t know.’

‘You don’t know where your boss is having a business meeting? What sort of PA are you?’ The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.

‘I’m sorry, Sir. I cannot help you.’ Her tone was clipped and frosty.

‘This is very urgent. Can you call your boss and find out where they are, please?’

‘Can I take your name again?’

He’d lost control of this. This woman knew where her boss was and was refusing to say out of some elevated sense of duty. ‘It’s of utmost importance that I find Dr Mendax. Can you help me or not?’