He drove into the centre of Guildford, unsure what to do next. He had an overnight bag in the car, and was welcome to stay with Claire and Baz Mulholland, but he could hardly mooch around there all day getting under the feet of her numerous kids, and being a target for Dexter, the crazed wolfhound. It was nearly six p.m. and he was hungry, so he put the car in the car park and had a lonely meal for one in Pizza Express. It was only when he was halfway through eating that he realised he and Sam had once shared a meal there on one of their early dates before going to see a film. The thought rather ruined his appetite.

Like most of the other solo diners, he spent time working his personal phone. Presumably warned off by Radar Dobbs, no one in CID nor anyone in CSI would take his calls. His texts and emails went unanswered. Only DC Michelle Tsu sent a brief reply, saying: ‘Sir, we’re all feeling your agony. I just want you to know that we won’t rest until we find her.’

Gillard creased his face, trying to suppress the emotion he felt. He became aware of a waitress standing at his shoulder. ‘Was the pizza okay?’ she asked. He nodded mutely, paid up and tipped extravagantly before staggering out. He stared around the streets, shop windows still lit up, even as staff began to lock doors. The streets were busy, the frenetic start of the weekend commute home. All right for those with a home. In the pedestrianised area everything seemed to be moving fast, except the homeless. They occupied most of the benches, grimy plastic bags and shopping trolleys containing pitiful possessions. He found a clean end of a bench at the other end of which perched an elderly lady in a headscarf and a raincoat whose colour could once have been described as coral, sucking on a can of cider. She didn’t see him, she didn’t even see the multitudes who strode past. Her rheumy unfocused eyes, canted skywards, seemed to await a message of salvation from on high.

For that, he envied her.

He tried Claire for the fourth time, and she picked up. ‘Craig, where are you?’

‘I’m sharing a bench with a lady of the road in the centre of Guildford.’ He told her Rigby’s advice about using Trish’s bungalow. She immediately renewed her offer of the spare room in Staines, but he declined.

‘I need to be close to the investigation. I’m going nuts.’

‘Don’t, Craig. Rigby is serious. If you cross her she’ll destroy you.’

‘How’s the investigation divided up?’ he asked.

‘Dobbs as you know is SIO. He’s appointed Perry to look after the Ulbricht and Morris killings, and I’m going to be working with the AKEU guy, Rajinder Otara, who arrives tonight, to find Sam. There’s a total news blackout of course.’

‘I’m relieved it’s you, Claire.’

She chuckled. ‘Mainly because you think I’ll feed you up-to-date information.’