She returns her focus to the case and watches the cabinet delivery again to see if there is anything she has missed, but there is nothing.

She writes a list of the victims on the whiteboard.

Billy Perrin – confirmed

Stan Buxton – confirmed

TBD

Josef Olinski – ?

Herman Olinski – ?

Her phone pings with a text message from Klara.

Hi Grace, that number is an unregistered phone. I’ve run a few reports but can find no trace of it. I’ve set up a scan from my home hub to keep a twenty-four-hour watch. I’ll get an alert if the phone goes live again. K x

Archer types back a ‘thank you’ as Quinn shuffles through the glass doors clumsily, carrying two mugs of steaming tea that have been filled to the brim.

‘One milky, one not so milky.’

‘Thank you.’ Archer takes the hot wet mug from him, wipes the bottom with her palm and sets it on the table. ‘That was my contact at the NCA. The phone number is unregistered and has gone dark.’

‘Nice one.’

‘One day and we have five victims. That’s almost more than we have on the investigation team.’

‘Os just got confirmation from a relative, who recognised him from a photo posted this morning on social media. The third victim is a Noel Tipping. Thirty-four years old. Homeless.’

Archer updates the list on the board with the new name.

‘I was also just talking to Mark Beattie in the kitchen. Pierce is going to work on getting us some more officers.’

‘That would be a help, but we need more than boots on the ground. I’m going to request Klara be seconded to the team.’

‘Klara?’

‘Klara Clark. NCA analyst and general tech wizard.’

‘No such thing as a female wizard. Klara would be a witch. A tech witch.’

‘Does it matter?’

‘Doesn’t quite have the same ring to it. Guru would be better. A tech guru.’

Archer rolls her eyes and Quinn smiles.

‘As analysts go, Os is good, but we could certainly do with a more seasoned pro,’ he says.

‘He seems inexperienced.’

‘Aye, he’s been with us for a year. He’s still a wee bit green.’

‘Klara will be good for us. She can do the work of three analysts.’

Their conversation is interrupted by Pierce’s voice. ‘DI Archer. A word, please. Harry, give us a moment.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

Pierce closes the door behind Quinn, folds her arms and levels her gaze at Archer.

The air crackles between them.

After a moment she speaks. ‘Charlie Bates has spoken with the Chief Constable.’

‘Has he?’ Archer tries to sound surprised.

‘Don’t play the innocent with me.’

Archer bristles, but is in no mood to stand down. Not after today’s unusual body count. ‘With all due respect, ma’am, this investigation is beyond DI Hicks’s capabilities.’ Her tone is firm, perhaps too firm, and she stops herself saying any more.