The more Sasha thought about it, the more it was unlikely the abduction of a teenage girl could have anything to do with the disappearance of six kids two and a half decades ago. All she had done was waste precious time that could have been spent coordinating the urgent search for Sammi.

‘Goodbye, Mr Carrington,’ Sasha said, but the old man didn’t give any indication he had heard her, or even that he knew she was there. Her own single memory of the man may not have been a positive one, nor would she wish this kind of affliction on anyone in their last days, but he was lucky to have a son so devoted.

‘I’m sorry I wasn’t much help,’ said Ian. ‘But if you need any information, do come back.’

Her phone rang in her bag as she went back to the lift.

‘DI Dawson,’ she said, answering it.

‘It’s Ajay. We’ve found something on Sammi’s computer.’

‘What?’ she asked.

‘Images,’ he told her. ‘And you’re not going to like them.’

25

‘The photos are clumsy glamour shots. It’s cheap and tawdry stuff, but nothing hard-core.’

‘Hard-core or not, she’s a vulnerable fifteen-year-old.’

Sasha clicked on the dozen images on the screen. Of Sammi posing in her bra against a wall, or with her hands cupped across her naked breasts, or sitting in her knickers in a wicker chair. She was doing her best to smile, but it was a thin, faltering thing, and her eyes were full of guilt and shame. It was clear she didn’t want to be posing for those shots.

‘They were found buried in an applications folder on her laptop,’ Ajay told her.

Sasha examined the images. There was nothing to suggest where the photos were taken. All she could see was that wicker chair, and a plain white wall behind.

‘Do we know where they came from?’

‘They were sent to her by email.’

‘So we can trace the email address back to the sender,’ Lolly suggested.

‘If only it were as easy as that. It was sent via an anonymous email system, it’s impossible to know who sent it. But the Digital Forensic Investigator is coming in from Chelmsford, one of the new guys apparently.’ Ajay frowned at his watch. ‘He should be here by now.’

‘I hope he’s showered, at least,’ said Craig, and they all turned to him in surprise. ‘Come on, you know what these techie blokes are like. He’ll be barely out of nappies, with long, lank hair and zits on his zits. He’ll stink to high heaven. They may know how to find their way around a computer, these guys, but most of them are barely acquainted with a bar of soap.’

‘Remind me to book Craig on to a diversity course ASAP,’ Sasha told Ajay.

Craig nodded sagely. ‘Just you wait.’