Code ten-ten, in their district, was the highest-priority incident. A call to arms, that only the most urgent incidents were assigned. Was it a murder? A terrorist attack? The whole building held its breath for the next part: Two infants, twins, four weeks of age, male, last seen by the mother in the Bishop Valley Park. Missing, suspected abducted. All units respond.

How could it have been anyone else? Harper’s eyes rested on Lauren, who hadn’t noticed her enter the cafe. She wore dark brown shorts and a black vest, walking boots and a pair of sunglasses on her head that were half lost in the large pillow of barely tamed brown curls. Sweat patches, face drained of blood, and those haunted, terrified eyes.

“Besides, she would have said her name when she called 999.”

The constable gave a small frown and a shrug, apologetic, assuming he must have been wrong, or that he’d missed something.

“Look, if you didn’t get it, maybe others have missed it, too. Radio through to HQ. The mother’s Lauren Tranter, husband is Patrick Tranter. And the babies are Morgan and Riley.”

“We know the babies’ names. She’s said them a lot.”

“Get them to run a background check on Mr and Mrs Tranter, would you? See if there’s any information on the system. Now, go.” This was something she’d been dying to do ever since she followed Patrick, but it was too risky. Every background search request was traceable. Thrupp would have found out for sure.

In the back of the cafe Lauren was struggling, being made to sit at a table, a police community support officer encircling her shoulders with a restraining arm. There was another officer standing, palms forward, in a posture of Please stay where you are, madam.

“Look,” Lauren was saying, “just let me go and help. I can’t stay here. I can’t.”

“Please, madam, you need to leave it to us now. We’ll find the boys, don’t worry. It’s really better for everyone if you stay here and wait for news.”

“How can I stay here?” She was shouting now. “When someone’s out there and they’ve taken my babies? Some mad bitch has gone off with my boys. Would you stay here if it was you? Could you?”

She shook off the arm at her back, managed to stand up and started to push against the two officers, both of whom were taller and broader than she was, and well trained in passive restraint techniques. Harper approached cautiously, just as Lauren was starting to kick out with her legs against the other women, teeth bared.

“Mrs Tranter? Lauren.”

She stopped in her struggle to be free, stopped trying to run out of the door. She glared at Harper, her strained face settling into recognition before becoming hard, accusatory.