The incident room was a hive of organised activity and urgent voices. Every phone was manned by detectives, trying not to talk over each other as they spoke with members of the public who had seen the six o’clock news. The caller’s details and information were recorded on the appropriate forms, which on completion were taken to Barnes’s office, where he and Stanley assessed and prioritised them for any immediate action.

‘You got anything that mentions Mead or Malone yet?’ Barnes asked Stanley.

‘Nope, nothing. I’ve got a few with possible names for nuns at the convent, but they’re all Sister this and Sister that – not a surname on any of them.

‘Same here. I thought we might at least get a call from a nun who’d lived there,’ Barnes sighed.

‘If they lead a sheltered life, they might not watch TV or read newspapers,’ Stanley remarked.

‘That’s true. At least we are getting people calling in, so fingers crossed.’

Stanley held up a few information forms. ‘There’ve been a few calls from people who said they were kids at the orphanage. They all mention the strict regime handed out by the Mother Superior and some of the nuns.’

‘I’ve got a few here too, but no mention of Meade being an abuser. We need to prioritise the calls we’ve received, then I’ll get some of the team to interview the former pupils.’ There was a knock on the door. ‘I’ve already told you there’s no need to knock,’ Barnes shouted, thinking it was a detective with more information forms.

Jane walked in, with Boon behind her carrying the convent photograph.

‘You two took your time.’

‘Less haste, more speed, sir,’ Jane beamed.

‘I’m not in the mood for flippancy, Tennison.’

‘We think we’ve identified our victim,’ Jane said.

‘And we’ve got proof Meade knew her,’ Boon added, holding up the photograph.

Barnes’s face lit up.

‘Who is she?’ an energised Barnes asked.

‘Her name’s Melissa Bailey, also known as Sister Missy, born fifth of August 1940. Her parents live in Kingston, Ontario. She became a novice at the Sisters of Mercy convent in February 1953 and took her final vows on the twentieth of February 1958.’

‘The date on the cross. That’s bloody brilliant. Well done, you two.’ Barnes beamed.

Boon put the photo down on Barnes’s desk and pointed out Melissa and Julie.

‘The priest in the back row is—’

‘The illustrious Father Bob,’ Barnes said, picking up the photograph to have a closer look.

‘Julie Dorton confirmed it’s Robert Meade,’ Boon added.

‘Meade was clearly well-liked, so I didn’t press her about him abusing the children. I figured it would be better coming from an actual victim if we trace one.’

Barnes nodded. ‘Tell me everything that Dorton said, chapter and verse.’

Jane recounted the interview from memory and Boon added other salient details from his notebook.