‘Look, Lucy,’ Beardmore said tiredly. ‘Someone’s killed a bunch of dogs. Apparently in a cruel and heartless way. I agree, it’s terrible. Very upsetting. But I don’t see how it’s connected to the case you’re supposed to be investigating.’

‘Stan, come on,’ Lucy said into her mobile.

She stood alongside the pit of carcasses, still in the midst of the stench and the droning flies. Of human beings, only Peabody remained nearby, and he was halfway up the slope, still with the material of his jacket spread over his nose and mouth.

‘We’ve found the dyed-pink poodle with the jewelled collar. And that collar …’ She held the object up in its clear plastic evidence sack; it was so coated in blood and gunk that it was barely discernible as something precious. ‘I mean, it’s a bit of a mess, but it’s been priced at two grand minimum. Now, why would any hoodlum kill a dog and dump it … along with something so valuable?’

‘Perhaps he was too stupid to realise what he had,’ Beardmore suggested.

‘Stan, come on … there’s something weird about this. These aren’t bait dogs. I’m pretty sure they’ve all died by human hand.’

‘Didn’t I hear from you that when Mahoney’s bait dogs got badly injured in the fighting-pit, he put them out of their misery himself?’

‘Yeah, but this poodle …’ She stepped back to the pit and glanced down. ‘While it’s partly burned, most of its head and upper body is intact. And there’s no sign of any scarring there. And that’s usually where bait dogs get hurt the most. Someone killed this dog just for the sake of it. Garrotted it with a wire, or something similar.’

‘Like I say, how terrible.’

‘Stan, please …’

‘Lucy … it’s not even the same colour of van. Those so-called dog-nappers were driving a black van. The abductors of this hobo down in St Clement’s were driving a blue van. There’s no certainty that abduction even happened.’

‘So that means we don’t look into it? How’s that going to play in the press, Stan? That we had a possible lead on a bunch of missing homeless people, but we couldn’t be bothered following it through because we weren’t certain?’

‘We don’t actually know that any homeless have gone missing at all.’

‘We’ve got a fairly good idea. And like it or not, there is a link to the missing dogs. And now we’ve found the dogs butchered. So, what do we think’s happened to those missing people?’ Lucy was being as forceful with her boss as she’d ever dared. But after some wariness at the commencement of this enquiry, she now felt increasingly as if things were adding up, and the picture they were creating was horrific. ‘Look, all I’m asking for—’