‘Good starting point, but is a dead person still human? Do they still feel or exercise humanity?’ Connie held her hands up in a gesture of submission. ‘Before you all start groaning, this isn’t Psychology 101, but the point’s valid. When you believe you’re dead, are you still constrained by the human idea of conscience, or rules? If there are no consequences, the brain is free to deal only on the basis of need, desire, or reaction.’ There was silence from the crowd. ‘Consider the sense of grief, of loneliness at being a walking corpse, unable to find a single person who can comprehend what you’re experiencing.’

‘Why take Xavier?’ Overbeck asked.

Connie shrugged. ‘We don’t know yet. The details of that are probably bound up in his delusion, and they may never become clear to us, even after he’s apprehended. What we need to do now is issue the description to all medical practitioners.’

‘Dr Woolwine,’ Overbeck said. ‘We cannot ask medics across the whole of Scotland to check their files. The amount of information we’ll get back is—’

‘Another woman’s been abducted!’

The female officer who’d burst through the door was panting and sweating. Every eye turned on her and she shrank backwards towards the doorframe.

‘In, Biddlecombe,’ Overbeck ordered her.

‘Ma’am,’ she replied, running a sleeve over her forehead.

‘Details, and make it concise.’

‘A man called saying his daughter had been taking their bins out when he heard screaming. He ran down the pathway to help, but by the time he got there, all he saw was tail lights heading out of the road, one of the bins on its side, and his daughter’s phone thrown onto the pavement.’

‘Name, description and address,’ Overbeck prompted, waving officers up from their seats to ready themselves for action.

‘Right,’ Biddlecombe un-scrunched the scrap of paper that was clutched in her hand. ‘Farzana Wakim, nineteen years old, five foot five, slim build, wearing long trousers and a pale blue hoodie. Black hair, brown eyes, very dark skin tone. Lives in Moat Place, Slateford. Uniformed officers are en route.’

‘Time of incident and description of the vehicle?’ Baarda asked.

Everyone in the room was slipping coats over their shoulders and grabbing notebooks.

‘Fifteen minutes ago, sir. He wasn’t able to describe the car. Said it was too dark,’ Biddlecombe said.

‘Right, this could be our man. I want the major routes west of the city blocked with checks on any single male drivers. Close down the whole Slateford area while we get this contained. No one talks to the press. CCTV from every source we can get,’ Overbeck said. ‘Baarda, liaise with the family en route. I want every house in the locality canvassed tonight, I don’t care how antisocial the hour.’

‘Superintendent.’ Connie stopped her at the door. ‘I need permission to send out an alert to medical practitioners.’