‘No.’ she snapped. ‘We’ll compromise the crime scene. They’ll need to photograph it.’

Joseph’s voice was calm. ‘Ma’am, we have to know who she is. I’ll take every precaution.’ He pulled a large evidence bag from his pocket.

He was right. ‘Then do it, Sergeant.’

All Nikki wanted to do was run away, but this was something she knew she had to face. So she set her jaw and pulled on a mask of her own, the professional face. With her stomach churning, she stepped forward and began to clinically appraise the scene.

The girl, clothed only in a short blue skirt and a thin, cap-sleeved T-shirt, lay on her back across two mouldering hay bales. The hideous rat-like death mask concealed her face, and from the blotchy discolouration of the skin, she had been dead for a while. Nikki had seen her fair share of unnatural deaths and she guessed at maybe two days. There was no obvious cause of death.

‘Right. Are you ready?’ Joseph had carefully moved around to the back of the grotesque tableau, and with gloved fingers prepared to remove the mask.

‘Just do it.’ she muttered.

With a deft movement, the sergeant peeled back the mask, and as he did so, a cascade of brunette hair fell gently over the girl’s shoulders.

Nikki tried to stifle it, but a low moan escaped from her slightly parted lips. And in that moment the years fell away and she was back in a filthy cellar, cradling a dying girl in her arms. ‘Oh no! Oh please, no.’ She stepped backwards, almost tripping in her haste to get away. She knew that her breathing was becoming erratic and she felt horribly light-headed. Then her heart began to pound like a hammer against her ribs and she knew immediately what was happening. She had not had a full blown panic attack for years, and the intensity of it was terrifying.

‘Breathe! Come on now, Inspector! Look at me, and breathe with me.’

Joseph was in front of her, holding her by the shoulders and demanding that she watch him. His face looked weirdly distorted, but she heard his voice echoing as if they were underwater, and she tried to do as he asked.

‘Can’t!’ A roaring noise filled her head and her chest tightened.

‘You can! Concentrate on me! Now, in, and out. Slowly, calmly, you can do it. In, and out.’

After a while, her desperate battle for breath began to ease, but she still couldn’t focus properly or talk to him.

‘It’s okay, it’s okay. It’s not Hannah. Do you understand me, Nikki? It’s not Hannah.’

Hannah? What did he mean? She sunk down on to a storage box, and tried to understand. What was he talking about? ‘What?’ She gasped, still trying to control her breathing. ‘What the hell … do you know … about Hannah?’