Whatever was happening to him, it was too late for a career change. He was just getting back on his feet after France, plus he was chipping in as much as he could with Sam’s course fees. Edinburgh University was expensive. Everything was bloody expensive. He was stuck in CID, and he couldn’t even afford a leather sofa.

He thumbed through the images on the phone. Jane Shaw a junkie? He looked at those clear, bright eyes as he ran the story over in his mind. She reported her son as missing because she needed a fix. It just didn’t ring true. She seemed to be doing all right with the cider and the contract cleaning. Nah.

He’d already checked Jane Shaw’s Toyota: it was a maroon Corolla, registered in her name. He also had the ANPR data on the car for the last couple of months, all sightings of the number plate traced onto a map of West Yorkshire. By the look of it, Craig didn’t work in Leeds. Most of the trips were a few miles south, in and around the old mill towns of Dewsbury, Batley and Cleckheaton.

Cleckheaton. There’s a name to conjure with. Next to it on the map was Heckmondwike. Someone was having a laugh when they named those towns. Domesday Book scribes after a few jars of mead?

He studied the map. The car’s journeys were indicated by red lines, the thicker the line the more frequent the trip. Along with the map there was a whole sheaf of print-outs, logs of journey times, plus a summary that flagged up obvious patterns for further investigation. All the analyses had been done with a computer application, of course. No hard-nosed detection necessary, human intelligence rendered obsolete.

The car had been making regular trips to all these towns to the south of Leeds. One stop-off had been highlighted, an old mill in Batley, now converted into a shopping centre. The car never stopped there for more than a few minutes. Every Monday evening at almost exactly the same time, in and out of the car park. The pick-up point, perhaps? If so, it might be used for more pick-ups, more sellers, part of a bigger operation. He’d have to pass that on to Kirklees CID. It was outside the operating area of Leeds District.

Other trips included longer stops, half an hour, an hour, sometimes more. They were logged for frequency and timings. Most were pretty regular. Craig appeared to have a fixed itinerary. Mondays were in and around Batley. Tuesdays were Cleckheaton, and so on, one weirdly named town after another.