Late afternoon, Ajay and Lolly drove to Sammi’s school to talk to the kids who had sat with her outside the Victoria shopping centre, and spoke to other school friends about the people Sammi knew, and her state of mind.

Craig dropped Sammi’s phone records on Sasha’s desk and she flicked straight to the last message she’d received before she’d left her friends.

It said:

Please meet me 1 more time

She replied:

leave me alone

And then, a moment later:

Please meet me and I will leave you alone I promise
8pm Churchill Road

Sammi’s last text:

ok

‘The phone?’ Sasha asked, pressing a biro against her chin.

‘It’s a prepaid number, a burner.’ He edged his bum on to the top of her desk. ‘And it’s not pinging anywhere. Switched off, like her own phone.’

‘Up!’ She raised her palm sharply upwards and he lifted a buttock so that she could rescue papers from beneath it. ‘So she definitely went to meet someone.’

Craig tapped his chin. ‘The pen.’

Sasha removed it from her face. The pen was leaking ink everywhere and she dumped it in a bin. She reached into her bag for wet wipes and a compact, peered into the tiny mirror to smear away the ink on her chin, thought she’d got all of it. She jutted out her jaw for Craig to inspect. ‘How’s that?’

Craig examined it from every angle. ‘Got it.’

He hovered, looking like there was something else on his mind, but she checked the task list on her notepad – Sasha was big on lists and religiously ticked off each task as it was completed – and saw she needed to speak to Vaughn. She had written in brackets: (wear shoes).

She slipped them on and rapped on the door of his office. ‘I was wondering whether we should organize a press conference?’

‘Are you asking me or telling me?’ DCI Claude Vaughn was an intimidating man who expected clear decision-making.

She hesitated. ‘I think we should.’

The chair’s springs creaked in protest as he shifted his large frame. ‘When were you thinking?’

‘As soon as possible,’ she said. ‘Tomorrow, if we can.’

Sasha gave him an update on the search for Sammi, and about the texts the girl had exchanged with her mystery correspondent. ‘There’s still a possibility she’s gone off with someone voluntarily. She’s fallen head over heels and they’ve run away. I don’t personally believe it, but if that’s the case she may not have realized the alarm she’s caused.’

‘It’s your call, Sasha.’ Vaughn laced his fingers over his bulging stomach. ‘If that’s what you want to do, and think it will help, go for it.’