Detective Superintendent Priya Nehwal was a living legend in Greater Manchester Police circles. An Indian woman now in her mid-fifties, she was short, squat and tubby, and always wore her long grey tresses in a chunky pony tail. She was famously scruffy, almost never opting for skirts or trouser-suits if she could find jeans, training shoes, a baggy, coffee-stained sweatshirt and a well-worn anorak. But she’d long been regarded as an ace thief-taker, whose meteoric rise through the male-dominated ranks of CID had been earned the hard way rather than conferred upon her through any sort of positive discrimination. She was admired widely, but feared too, because, as one of the senior investigating officers in the Serious Crimes Division, she demanded hard, conscientious work and would crack the whip like a devil if she didn’t get it.

‘Morning, ma’am,’ Lucy said.

‘Sit down, Lucy,’ Nehwal replied, not bothering with niceties. They’d worked together before, and they’d worked well – but the super didn’t really do friendship.

Lucy took a chair in the corner, while Beardmore settled back behind his desk. Nehwal, who was perched on the edge of it, her feet not reaching the floor, didn’t move.

‘I understand you’ve been working on an abduction case?’ she said.

Lucy shrugged. ‘A possible abduction case.’

Nehwal picked up some of the preliminary paperwork Lucy had forwarded to Beardmore the previous day. ‘This pensioner … Harry Hopkins?’

‘That’s right,’ Lucy said. ‘He’s vanished and there’s some evidence that he was taken by force. Possibly from the back gate of his house.’

Nehwal read the report again, her expression inscrutable. ‘How’re you getting on with it?’

‘No real progress yet, I’m sorry to say. I’m working on a couple of theories.’

Nehwal continued to check details. For the first time, Lucy noticed the three tea-stained mugs on Beardmore’s desk. His tie was loose and his shirt collar open. He looked sallow-cheeked and had clearly been up and on duty for quite some time. Whatever the reason for that, at some point during the night Serious Crimes had also become involved.

‘We’ve had no contact from anyone claiming to be the kidnapper?’ Nehwal asked.

‘No, ma’am.’

‘You’ve checked that with the local newspapers, online news sites, and the like?’

‘Yes.’

‘Because, you see –’ the super laid the paperwork down ‘– we may have another one.’

Lucy was surprised. ‘Another abduction?’

‘Yes. And it’s not a pensioner this time. It’s a thirty-year-old fitness fanatic called Lorna Cunningham, who dropped out of sight late on Saturday night.’

‘A fitness fanatic?’ Lucy couldn’t help but frown. ‘That victimology would be very different.’

‘Agreed. I said we may have another one. The jury’s still out.’ Nehwal eyed her. ‘You think Hopkins may have been taken away in a vehicle … and that’s because there was fresh mud splashed all over his back gate?’