‘Because although the report is right, and it’s little more than a chimney stack and a couple of collapsed walls, it once had a cellar.’ Nikki exhaled. ‘I haven’t thought about that old place in years! It was strictly out of bounds, and a magnet to us local kids. It was dangerous even back then, so it’s liable to be a deathtrap today, but that cellar was pretty well built.’ For a moment she saw herself, a little kid doing what she shouldn’t, slipping through the doorway and down the worn stone steps to the creepy old cellar.

‘Where now, ma’am?’ asked Yvonne, braking sharply. ‘It looks like there’s nowhere to go.’

‘There’s a track that leads down to the bridge. See, over there.’ Nikki pointed. ‘It’s really overgrown, but someone has been down there recently. Look! The grass is flattened!’

‘If this is it, God help the ambulance crew trying to find us!’ muttered Cat. ‘Maybe we should go the last part on foot?’

‘It’ll probably be quicker. Come on.’ Nikki threw open the car door and hit the ground running. ‘And Niall …’ she yelled back over her shoulder, ‘… bring a thermal blanket, just in case!’ Every fibre in her body screamed out that this was the place.

Oblivious of her trouser legs snagging against tall reed grass and nettles, she ran like a hare. And in her head, she saw herself standing on the sea-bank, and seeing a small brown and white dog running across the marsh paths, towards the estuary! Towards this place!

A broken skeleton of a five-bar gate blocked her way, but she scrambled swiftly over it, all the time thinking about the dog. What was Kris Brown’s dog? A Springer, a spaniel. Swampy, he’d called it. But this stretch of coastline was miles away from Barnby Eaudyke. Could it be the same animal? And if it was, what other reason would it have had to travel so far, but to go to find someone it loved.

‘This is it, I know it!’ she called to the others, hardly even knowing if they were managing to keep up with her or not.

She felt so sure because another thing had just hit her. Stevie Cox would certainly have known about Coggin’s Cottage. Years ago, the Cox family had lived close to her own, but that was before Stevie found money in football and they moved on to some posh address closer to the Wolds.

‘Kerry!’ Her voice echoed out over the vast reaches of the watery landscape. ‘Kerry!’

The single stack of the weatherbeaten chimney suddenly came into view and, although seabirds screeched and cried, Nikki heard no sound of reply. ‘Kerry! It’s the police! We’re here to help! Can you hear me?’

All she heard was the sound of her colleagues crashing through the undergrowth, swearing and stumbling after her.