‘The girl who went missing in Brentwood,’ said Ajay, when she didn’t answer. ‘She says she was kidnapped and held in some kind of shack in a wood near Danbury. And, get this, she says she was rescued by Abs Cruikshank.’

‘Shut the front door,’ said Sasha in wonder.

‘There was another man, who she said abducted her, but she’s traumatized and can’t remember his name. They’re talking to her at Chelmsford right now. I’ll let you know as soon as we get more from the guys there.’

When she finished the call, Sasha could hear Kev talking quietly to Angel on the other side of the curtain. The question that had been nagging at her since yesterday popped suddenly into her head, and she dug out a piece of paper from her bag and rang the number written on it. It was still way too early, six in the morning, but she called it anyway, and to her surprise it was answered.

‘Yeah?’ There was a gruff rattle in the voice on the other end.

‘Lore, it’s DI Sasha Dawson. We spoke yesterday.’

A long pause as Lore processed the information: ‘Do you know what time it is?’

‘It won’t take long, I promise.’ A doctor frowned at her speaking on the phone and Sasha walked quickly towards the exit. ‘Yesterday you told me how you attacked Jez when you were little kids, do you remember that?’

Sasha heard Lore move sluggishly in bed. ‘Do we really have to have this conversation right now?’

‘Why did you do it?’

‘What.’ Lore snorted. ‘You’re going to bring charges all these years later?’

She stepped out of the automatic doors into the cold early morning. ‘You said you found him doing something – what was it?’

‘Uh.’ Sasha could hear Lore trying to pull her thoughts together. ‘It was a long time ago, water under the bridge.’

‘Please tell me and I’ll let you go straight back to sleep.’

Lore sighed heavily. ‘He’d caught a bird, it was just a little thing and still alive, and I found him… he was pulling its wings off.’ She grunted. ‘He was the sicko torturing animals, and I’m the one who got into trouble, but that’s lucky old Jez for you.’

‘Thank you, Lore.’ Sasha hung up and tapped the edge of the phone thoughtfully against her chin. If she went home now, she’d spend most of the day clearing up the mess. At the end of the car park she saw an old woman hanging on to her IV trolley as she smoked a fag.

‘May I nick one?’ Sasha asked, pointing at the cigarette. The woman nodded at the drooping front pocket of her sagging dressing gown. Sasha didn’t relish the prospect of reaching in there, but she really needed a smoke. She’d given up months ago, but the nicotine hit would help her perk up.