A whiteboard took up space at the end of the room, littered with details of the investigation and crime scene photographs. There were more whiteboards in the briefing room, featuring locations, dates and theories. One solely held details of the Midnight Game. Her colleagues had picked the game apart, trying to work out a connection between the killer and his need to play. Sarah visited the room when she could, tapping her chin and staring at the boards as she waited for answers to materialise. But not today.

Her colleagues took their seats as they filtered in from the briefing. It seemed everyone had been called in except for her. Sarah glanced around the room as Yvonne failed to reply. ‘Where’s Gabby?’

‘She’s taken time off to be with her family. I’m acting sergeant now,’ Yvonne said briskly.

Sarah’s spirits plummeted as the news sank in. She had hoped for some divine intervention to stop such an atrocity taking place. She glanced over at Richie who was in conversation with uniformed officers as he spread out a map on his desk. The office was bustling with activity. They had obviously been called in early. Something new must have come in.

‘Have we had a new lead?’ Sarah followed Yvonne to Gabby’s desk. Yvonne raised an eyebrow as she checked the clock on the wall.

‘I suppose you haven’t heard, given you’ve just rocked up.’

Sarah frowned. That was hardly fair. Her shift started at eight and it was just gone quarter to.

‘The early bird gets the worm,’ Yvonne continued, ‘as Saint Bernard would say.’

She’d be after his job soon too, Sarah thought, inwardly rolling her eyes.

She slipped off her Barbour jacket and rested it on the back of her chair. ‘If I’d been called, I would have come straight in.’

But Yvonne was unmoved. ‘Jahmelia’s missing. Her parents called it in an hour ago when she didn’t get up for breakfast.’ She shifted on her heels. ‘I’ll set you some tasks on the system.’

Sarah’s stomach lurched. Jahmelia was gone? But her parents must have been watching her every move. How could this have happened? Aware of Yvonne’s presence, she regained her composure as she remembered the journal in her bag. ‘I have a lead. It’s a journal from Elsie’s house.’

As she handed over the book, Yvonne sat at Gabby’s desk and settled back into her swivel chair. Most acting sergeants continued to work from their own desks, but Yvonne seemed to be enjoying the power trip. She thumbed through the pages of Elsie’s old journal. ‘What am I looking at, apart from badly written soft porn?’

‘It belongs to Elsie Abraham. Christian Abraham is her son. It was in a bag of stuff he’d put out for the bin.’