‘Didn’t take long to work that out. And then…’

‘Then?’

‘Then he’s dead.’

‘Meanwhile, we’ve got Daz and Ranksy driving over to Leeds, telling his mum that they’re going to sort Craig out. And, by the way, you’re the second person to confirm that.’

He looked at the parents around them, all safe in the knowledge that their kids were within easy reach. But what if one of them was in danger? Real danger? How far would they go?

‘I’ll just get a coffee. Why don’t you tell Lisa to park that big black car and come in? I need a word with her too.’

Karen Cullen looked surprised.

‘I don’t miss much, either,’ he said.

As he queued at the counter, he saw the guy from the car park over at a table in the far corner, watching his young daughter as she ate chips from her Happy Meal, making sure she didn’t get too much ketchup on each one, a paper serviette in his hand to wipe her mouth. It was almost impossible to believe that it was the same man.

Joe gave Rita a call. She answered immediately, her voice hoarse, edged with exhaustion.

‘Hi, how’s it going? Saw you on the internet. Very sombre.’

‘Bollocks. We’re looking into Leo Turner now. Closely. We’ve got a big team on this. Getting’ bigger, an’all.’

‘I bet you are. I’ve got a bit more on him as it happens.’ He briefly explained the situation with Karen Cullen. ‘Shall I send ’em across to make statements?’

‘Sweet. Tell ’em to ask for me. I’ll be waiting. Cheers, Joe.’

‘No problem. By the way, what’s this about Beverage meeting a copper?’

‘Hold on, it’s here on the system. Peters or Peterson or something. That’s what the kid said. Beverage phoned him, said he was off to see a copper. We’ve got a DCI called Peters. Could be name-checking him. But there’s no obvious link. I’ve got somebody on it.’

‘No. He’s name-checking a Canadian psychologist.’

‘Explain!’

But he’d already hung up.

He texted Rita as he made his way back across the restaurant:

Jordan Peterson. Author of 12 Rules for Life. The Lobster Book. There’s a copy in Turner’s house.

‘Hello, Lisa,’ he said, sliding back into the seat.

Her expression was blank. There was none of the former attitude. She looked younger now, and smaller, her resilience stripped away until only the child remained. And she wasn’t pretending this time.

‘I assume your mum’s told you about what she did?’

Karen nodded, answering for her daughter.