‘I did. Elspeth Dunwoody is alive. More than just alive. She’s fulfilling a need her abductor has. He went to a lot of trouble not to harm her when he took her. He’s already lost one target. It’s unlikely he’ll risk losing Elspeth as well. Dr Lambert, thank you, and apologies for the … oddness.’

‘Not at all, although next time I’d prefer a warning. One last thing, how long was it from the lacrosse injury to when you first saw in black and white? I’m intrigued by injuries and their resolution. It helps my knowledge base.’

Connie looked at the tiny woman, inches shorter than her, years older, yet as on point and forceful as a missile. She considered lying, and decided Ailsa would know immediately if she did.

‘A little over a year,’ she replied. ‘We should be going. Baarda’s a kidnapping specialist, and Police Scotland sound like they could use all hands on deck.’

‘Indeed,’ Ailsa said. ‘Call if you need me, day or night.’

They left the chief pathologist standing out under the stars.

‘What was all that about?’ Baarda asked.

‘Nothing. She reminds me of my grandmother. The nice one. We should get back to the station.’

‘You had a not-so-nice grandmother?’ Baarda asked as they made their way to the car park.

‘Misguided is probably the word. Impressed by titles and professions. Too convinced by her own judgement to really see what was going on around her. You know the type.’

‘I believe I do,’ Baarda said, opening the car door for her.

She smiled gently at the old-fashioned gesture.

‘So, tell me about this missing girl,’ Connie said.

‘Someone thinks they saw her being forcibly pulled into a car and raised the alarm.’

‘Jesus, Baarda, how many people get abducted each year in the UK anyway? It’s starting to feel like 1920s New York.’

‘Around 5,000 per year. When it’s a child, chances are it’s a family member or friend. Unconnected child abductions are still extraordinarily rare.’

‘Did the witness get a licence plate?’

‘No. Unfortunately, it was another minor. Less observant and more chaotic in recollection.’

‘Where was this?’ Connie asked.

‘School car park. Plenty of people currently at the scene. We’ve been asked to remain available at the station in case it turns out to be anything sinister, given my area of expertise.’

‘Go to the school anyway,’ Connie said. ‘What’s the point of sitting at the police station waiting to be asked questions by phone?’

‘I thought you’d want to get on with the Dunwoody case while we’re waiting. There might be nothing for us to do in any event.’

‘My brain works best on one set of facts while it’s occupied with something completely different. Also, that police station is cold, and it smells like takeout and armpits. I’d prefer to be outside, thank you.’