‘Of course,’ Chris said. ‘But we’ll have that back from the lab pretty soon; and remember Raymond said it wasn’t from a relative of Russell’s.’ He was about to draw out of the space when Clare put out a hand to stop him.

‘Chris.’

‘Yeah?’

‘There’s still one person whose DNA we haven’t tested.’ She turned to face him. ‘We’ve been so caught up with Luke and David – Gaby’s overdose – we forgot about the security guard. We still don’t have Mark Mooney’s DNA.’

‘No sign of Doug Gerrard,’ Sara said, ‘but they’ll let us know.’

‘I want him brought here, remember,’ Clare said. ‘If they can’t spare someone to drive him through one of you will have to go.’ She stood thinking for a moment then said, ‘Luke Gasparini?’

Sara shook her head. ‘Not yet, boss. Hopefully soon, though.’

Chris was hovering. ‘You going to update Tony?’ he said, nodding at Clare’s office door.

Clare looked at the door but found she hadn’t the energy to explain everything to Tony. Instead, she said, ‘Has Mark Mooney showed up yet?’

‘Sorry, boss. Wife says he’s still away.’

Clare stood thinking for a moment. Then she picked up the car keys again. ‘Come on. Let’s go and speak to the wife.’

As they walked up to the front door of the house in Warrack Street they were met with the aroma of barbeque smoke.

‘God, but I’m hungry,’ Chris said. ‘Fancy stopping for some food after this?’

Clare shivered. Food was the last thing on her mind. ‘Let’s just see how we get on, yeah?’

‘Just because you have the lurgy.’

There was no answer from the doorbell so Clare moved to a high wooden side gate and peered over. ‘Hello?’ she called.

The blonde woman they’d seen on Sunday when they’d questioned Mark was standing bent over a barbeque, rearranging burgers. The two little boys were sitting on a wall a few feet away, clutching pouches of Capri-Sun juice. She looked up at the sound of Clare’s voice then glanced back at the boys. ‘You two stay put,’ she said, raising a warning finger. The boys nodded then whispered and giggled, sharing some private joke. The woman walked over to the gate, tongs still in hand.

‘I won’t keep you,’ Clare said. ‘I just wondered if Mark’s back yet?’

‘Sorry, no. Probably late tonight, or morning at worst. I think he’s working tomorrow night.’

‘And you don’t know where he’s gone?’ Clare asked.

‘I don’t. He did mention Glencoe but that wasn’t definite.’

Clare smiled. ‘We’d like to speak to him as soon as possible,’ she said. ‘Do you have his mobile number?’

‘I do. But he’s out of signal, wherever he is. What do you want him for?’