Police officers greeted me on my way through the gates and directed me to a part of the car park that had been cleared of snow. It seemed no cars were being allowed in that morning other than those who were there on official business. Once I had found a spot, I pulled on my walking boots and trudged through the courtyard into the main part of the park, where a PC directed me towards the hall, from where the search was being coordinated.

‘Stay close to the tape, please,’ the PC said, indicating a line of blue and white police tape that had been strung up along the path. I didn’t know if it was there to keep footprints to a confined area, or simply to stop anyone getting lost in the woods. With everything covered by a blanket of white it would be easy for me to lose my bearings.

As I approached the huddle of people ahead of me, one familiar figure stepped away from the group and walked towards me. There was no mistaking the broad shoulders and dark skin of Rav Singh, and I felt a little flutter of happiness that he was here too.

‘Paige,’ Singh said, the smile on his face brief in deference to the seriousness of the situation. But there was warmth in his deep brown eyes and I couldn’t help but smile in return.

‘DC Singh,’ I replied, pulling off one of my gloves to shake the hand that was offered. I hadn’t seen him since February, when I had interpreted for the police who were investigating the murder of my sister’s goddaughter, Lexi. It had been a harrowing case that left the Deaf community reeling, and my life had been in danger more than once. That experience had made me reluctant to work with the police ever again, especially after my sister had suffered a life-threatening brain injury when the murderer attacked her, but I’d told myself that this time would be different.

‘It’s DS now,’ he said, turning and leading me back towards the group. ‘I took my exam months ago, but a position only just became available. So, this is my first case since my promotion.’

‘Congratulations,’ I told him, feeling genuinely pleased for him. In my experience he was an excellent detective, compassionate and dedicated.

‘You remember DI Forest,’ he said, nodding at the tall woman in front of us, her dark hair pulled into a severe knot at the nape of her neck, which was covered by a dark blue ski tube. I wondered if he was teasing me; DI Forest and I had locked horns several times when I’d first been asked to interpret for the police. She nodded at me, and I returned the gesture.