‘You saw a dark-blue van?’ Lucy glanced down at her, trying to work out what she meant, but then remembered the screen-grab print-outs in the back of the CID car. She quickly realised what had happened, picturing the diligent young copper working on her CCTV footage over the last few days, latching onto various suspect vehicles as they threaded their way through Crowley, plotting their routes as she followed them from one camera to the next … ‘And this one led you here?’

Payne tried to focus up at her, but her eyes were rolling in their sockets. ‘Lost it … last junction …’

‘And so you, being a conscientious copper, checked the area to see where it might have disappeared to. And you found Santa Magdalena?’

‘Yeah, but …’ Payne’s eyes fluttered closed again, though she appeared to retain consciousness. ‘Didn’t think anything …’

Now Lucy understood. ‘You didn’t think anything of it until I mentioned nuns earlier this evening? Having already mentioned them to you once before – as well as talking vaguely about a Catholic care home.’

‘Thought … thought you might need … some … help …’

Lucy resumed picking through the gore-matted hair. ‘So why come here alone?’

‘Seemed … a long shot. Plus …’ Payne’s eyes flickered opened again, her red-tinged gaze strained with agony, ‘… knew you were supposed … off sick. Didn’t want … drop you in it.’

Lucy now found what she was looking for: two deep lacerations running side by side through the follicles, inches long each, both still oozing with blood. The results of at least two savage blows with a blunt instrument.

Even at first glance, the wounds were maybe a centimetre deep.

‘Sodding hell … have you got your priorities wrong, Tessa.’

‘Sorry, Lucy …’

Lucy knelt back, ripping her bloodied gloves off and tossing them away, before searching the casualty’s jacket pockets. She found only a handkerchief, which she wadded into a compress, and then pushed against Payne’s scalp. ‘Where’s your phone?’

‘Not there?’ Payne sounded vaguely surprised. ‘Don’t … know.’

Lucy grabbed the Maglite with her free hand and shone it along the passage, wondering if the phone had simply fallen from the girl’s pocket when she’d been attacked. If it had, there was no sign of it now. Which meant that the assailants had taken it.

There was nothing for it. Under normal circs, she wouldn’t want to move a head injury victim without medical supervision, especially when she had no clue how serious the injury was – the girl could be about to die for all Lucy knew – but she had to find a way to call assistance, and there was no possibility she could leave Payne here alone.

‘Do you think you can stand?’ she asked.

But Payne’s eyes had closed again. ‘Dunno,’ she mumbled.