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around the theatre had been sympathetically renovated and built up over the years and even the new shop fronts were in keeping with the original style. But further out, many of the ancient dwellings had been interspersed with modern buildings and shop fronts, and Greenhill Street was an eclectic mixture of the ancient and the very new. He made his way to the old red telephone box and halted. A car park sat beside it. There were no side streets during this stretch for Min to take. He glanced to the right and walked into the car park. A camera pointed protectively across its flock of cars, away from the road. He stopped next to a low stone wall and looked over the top. The ground was lower at the other side by a couple of feet, although it was feasible to jump over it, and head through to Grove Road. Well, feasible for him. But for a woman in a long skirt and heels? It seemed unlikely.
    He made his way back to the pavement. The Chicago Rock Cafe opposite had long since closed down. He racked his brains. His officers would be working their way down this road checking for witnesses and sightings of the victim. He made a mental note to ensure they requested all available camera footage from the shops and businesses still open and continued on until he reached the pub.
    Hanging baskets weighted down with petunias, begonias and strings of variegated ivy decorated the side walls of the Old Thatch Tavern that straddled the corner of Rother Street and Greenhill Street, their blast of colour making the quaint fifteenth-century, white-painted building look almost picturesque in the sparkling sunlight. He stared at the wooden entrance door as he passed and made his way back to the station.
    It was another balmy evening. Rush hour was in full swing and the buzz of traffic hummed in his ears, so much so that he was grateful to escape it when he arrived at the station. He strode around the back and walked through the staff entrance.
    The first person Jackman saw as he climbed the stairs was DC Russell. She was standing on the landing, texting on her mobile.
    “Evening, sir.” She looked up at him. “Can’t get a damn signal inside.”
    Jackman smiled at her. “Any news from the Li family?”
    Russell’s face clouded over. “Not much I’m afraid. I’ve spoken to the father, but as far as I can tell she hasn’t been in touch and they have no idea where she is. They’re eight hours ahead of us, so I think we’re unlikely to hear anything more until the morning.”
    “Okay, well done. What about the Embassy? Anything on her father’s business interests?”
    Russell blew a frustrated sigh out of the corners of her mouth. “It’s all forms and paperwork requests, but no answers. Proper bureaucracy. I don’t hold out much hope for anything very soon.”
    “Alright, thanks. Keep plugging away at it.”
    She looked out of the window and her forehead wrinkled into a frown.
    “Is there something else?”
    She kept her gaze on the car park as she spoke. “No, nothing I can put my finger on.”
    “What do you mean?”
    She shook her head. “I don’t know. The parents didn’t sound too upset.” She turned to look at him. “If it was your daughter, you’d be frantic, choke on your words, angry even. I know it was a phone call to the other side of the world and there are cultural differences to bear in mind, but I found it difficult to get any emotion from him at all. He seemed so controlled.”
    Jackman stared at Russell a moment before he spoke. “People react to things in different ways.”
    “Yes, you’re right.” Her mouth formed a thin smile. “Probably just me. We’ll see what tomorrow brings.”
    He nodded and turned towards the incident room. He’d almost reached the entrance when she called after him, “Oh, by the way, a package was dropped off for you.”
    He turned back, “Who from?”
    She shrugged. “A brown envelope. It’s on your desk.”
    Jackman entered the incident room and headed for the box-style