Nikki met Archie in a small café on River Walk. He sat at the back, concealed from the windows, and stirred an oversized cup of cappuccino.

‘I hoped to be handing you your Fluke character on a plate, but it seems I was wrong.’ Archie’s face darkened. ‘My boys have been up more blind alleys than you could believe. And …’ he paused and gave her a long pondering look, ‘… I hate to tell you this, Nikki, but one name has cropped up rather regularly as the family have been making their enquiries.’ He sipped his coffee, winced, then tore the top from another packet of sugar and tipped it in. ‘A name you won’t like.’

‘I’m supposing it’s Frankie Doyle.’ said Nikki sombrely.

‘You suppose correctly.’

‘In what context does she appear.’

‘Well, my sister-in-law Margaret tells us that Doyle visited Lisa Jane a few days before she went missing.’

‘I didn’t know they were friends,’ said Nikki, unable to keep the surprise out of her voice.

‘They weren’t,’ said Archie, his jaw set forward. ‘We’ve had nothing to do with that piece of shit since we found she was responsible for your daughter’s … uh … unfortunate accident.’

‘My daughter’s attempted murder, you mean?’

Archie nodded sadly. ‘How is she?’

‘Some days I think there is improvement, and others … well, you know.’ She drew in a breath. She didn’t want to think about Hannah right now. ‘But back to Frankie Doyle. Does she still live on the Carborough? She slipped off our radar a few months ago, then I was told she was back, and running with the big boys.’

‘She will never run with the big boys. She’s evil, but she’s not clever. She’s a maverick, a disturbed one. No one with any sense would trust her.’ He frowned. ‘And I’m sure she’s not living around here any more. One of my nephews is trying to get you an address. If he succeeds, I’ll ring straightaway.’ He took a big gulp of coffee. ‘Do you have anything for us?’

Nikki told him about Mickey, but did not mention that the boy had regained consciousness. She trusted him, but still knew when to be tactful.

‘If he’s the boy I’m thinking of, he’s not the luckiest kid on the block. He’s an only child, and takes the brunt of his father’s drunken rages. His mother, as I recall, spends more time with her sister in Peterborough than she does at home.’

‘What’s the boy’s surname, Archie?’

‘Smith.’

‘And where does he live?’

Archie thought for a moment. ‘Cavendish Buildings. Not sure of the number.’

‘Thanks. Let’s just hope he pulls through.’ She leant forward and lowered her voice. ‘We may have a lead on the masks, or at least something about the name they’ve given them.’

‘Ah, the Griffyx.’