And then… nothing.

Sasha couldn’t remember the last time she saw him on the telly, or had even thought about him, and realized his disappearance from public life coincided with Rhiannon Jenkins going missing. Telly producers, advertisers and sponsors must have dropped him like a hot coal.

Lolly leaned over the screen. ‘What’s he done?’

‘He was questioned about the disappearance of a girl,’ Sasha told her. ‘Three years ago.’

‘I know about that,’ said Lolly. ‘But I don’t care, I still would.’

Looking up from his computer, DC Craig Power pulled a face. ‘Dear, oh dear.’

‘Abs is sex on a stick,’ Lolly told him. ‘He’s the perfect man.’

Craig smirked. ‘Each to their own.’

‘I’m going to marry him one day,’ Lolly told him defensively, and Sasha hoped she was joking. ‘He’s ten times the man you are, Craig. You’re just jealous, mate.’

That must have hit a nerve, because Craig spun in his chair to face her. ‘As if I’m jealous of that muppet. He ain’t all that. And, anyway, as if he’s going to look at you when he can have any woman he likes.’

‘Craiiggg,’ warned Sasha in a singsong, her eyes drifting up to the television screen on the wall. ‘Play nice.’

‘Abs, mate!’ London born and bred, Craig did what he believed to be a funny estuary accent. ‘I’m well jel, whatevah, yeah?’

‘You think you’re Idris,’ Lolly replied with venom. ‘You think you’re God’s gift, but I’m telling you right now, you ain’t.’

‘Now now, team,’ warned Sasha. Lolly and Craig’s unspoken burning desire for each other was becoming a problem. ‘Let’s keep it professional.’

Craig Power shrugged. ‘I’ve had offers, from model agencies and that.’

Lolly snorted. ‘You live in a fantasy world.’

The news report changed on the TV and Sasha recognized Hockley station. She saw patrol cars and vans, crime scene tape flapping at the outer cordon, and realized the footage had been taken this morning.

‘You know it’s the truth.’ Craig gave Lolly a sarcastic wink. ‘Some of us have the X factor, that special something, know what I mean?’

Lolly rolled a finger beside her temple. ‘You’re losing it, mate.’

‘Right,’ snapped Sasha, ‘this is all very interesting, but we have things to do.’ She made a shooing movement with her hands. ‘Off you go, Lols.’

Folding her arms, she sat back in her chair to watch the news report, interested to see if she could be glimpsed in the footage. Nobody could resist trying to spot themselves on television, although it might be difficult to recognize herself among the many identical forensic suits. The camera panned around the car park to reveal the small crowd of onlookers.

And there it was again – that momentary glimpse of a familiar face in the crowd. Sasha jumped out of her seat and rushed to the table where all three million remote controls that operated the office tech were kept, and began picking them up. She hadn’t got a clue what any of them did, and couldn’t find the right one.