They followed Belinda past the main office, a large room with about fifteen desk booths. Only one of the booths was occupied, by a sweaty-looking woman, typing furiously. A few minutes later, very apologetic, she appeared at the door, clutching a sheaf of printouts.

The social worker looked absolutely fucking terrible. Red nose, streaming eyes, skin almost gray.

“Thanks for making the time to see us. Have a seat. You know why we’re here?”

Diane nodded.

“Just before we start, are you feeling okay?”

Diane tried to smile. Her eyes were small and red-rimmed. She withdrew a lump of damp tissue from her handbag, started trying to straighten it out. “I’ve got a bit of a cold, that’s all.”

Joanna took out some hand sanitizer and squeezed a blob into her palm, rubbed her hands together, feeling the alcohol evaporate, relaxing slightly as she imagined all those germs dying. The last thing she needed was to get ill herself. Beside her, Atkinson drew out a package of tissues and handed Diane a fresh one.

“Thanks, love.” There followed a great wet nose-blowing.

Jo said, “Yesterday, my officers entered the apartment of a man called Gregor Franks, who lives in the New Park estate over in Sheffield. He’s been quite badly injured and taken to hospital, and has yet to regain consciousness. We’re trying to trace a woman who we suspect may be connected to the victim. She’s traveling with a child. I believe, on Friday, you attended an incident along with some local officers, in which a woman and child of the right age were detained.”

“Initially, they were detained,” said Diane. “It seemed to me that there wasn’t a problem, so they were allowed to be on their way.”

Jo nodded. “Just to confirm the details, what were their names?”

“The mother was called Constance Douglas. The girl was called Leonie Douglas.”

Atkinson made a note. “Tell us what happened. From the beginning.”

“We had an emergency call from the police about a lone child, a toddler, who’d been found on the seafront. A shopkeeper had opened his door, and she’d just wandered in. No adult to be seen anywhere nearby, and it was freezing. I went there expecting to do an emergency referral, but by the time I got there, the mother had turned up.”

“What did she say?”

“She explained that she’d lost sight of the child, who was a bolter, always running off. She said she’d been looking for her everywhere. It seemed fine. Genuine mistake. Tragedy averted.” Diane did a small, unconvincing “ha ha.” Both police officers regarded her with stony faces.

Atkinson said, “Did she say why she hadn’t called the police? The nine-nine-nine was from the shopkeeper.”

“She said she’d been frantically searching. And it hadn’t been that long either. The police must have gotten there very quickly.”