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centrally heated
office block. ‘It wasn’t smart, finding your body, was it, DCI Daniels? Should’ve kept walking, shouldn’t I? Instead, I’ve been walking down memory lane.’ He
yawned again. ‘Excuse me! I’m not used to being inside for very long these days. In my former role as a police officer, I spent many an hour in rooms like this one.’
    Daniels phone rang: BRIGHT CALLING.
    Bull saw a look of frustration cross her face before she had time to hide it.
    ‘Better order lunch then.’ He smiled, accepting that she was about to ask him to wait even longer. ‘Grub still as bad as ever?’
    ‘I’m so sorry. I wish I could be in two places at once, but I can’t. I’ll call Hank Gormley, my DS. Ask him to take your statement immediately. Then you can get on your
way, as long as you leave a contact number so I’ll be able to reach you.’
    T he viewing room of any city morgue is grim at the best of times. For Adam Finch, this was the worst of times. His near-perfect life had fallen apart spectacularly in the past
few hours. He looked small and insignificant standing beside a corpse covered with a green sheet, flanked on either side by Bright and Daniels.
    The DCI spoke softly, not wanting to pressure him. ‘Are you ready, Mr Finch?’
    Finch nodded. Anxiety seemed to have aged him in a matter of minutes. Daniels lifted the sheet exposing the dead girl’s face and took a step back as Finch leaned over the body. He shut his
eyes but said nothing. She thought he was praying and allowed him a moment of silence. When he opened his eyes, a single tear ran from his eye and dripped off the end of his nose on to the
girl’s cheek, making it look like she was crying too. That was when he fell apart.
    Daniels exchanged a concerned glance with Bright. He placed a steadying hand on his friend’s shoulder and guided him from the room into the corridor beyond.
    ‘I’m so very sorry, Adam,’ Bright said as they left the room.
    ‘No . . .’ It was almost a sob. ‘It’s not her. It’s not Jessica.’

7
    T he Jaguar sped off with Daniels’ Toyota following close behind. The fiasco at the morgue had riled Bright, so much so that he’d ordered her to accompany Finch home
in return for access to his daughter’s room. For all that abduction was a very serious offence – if indeed that’s what it was – Daniels wasn’t too chuffed with the
arrangement. In fact she was really pissed off. She was an SIO with a murder enquiry to run. Besides, Adam Finch had told them that this wasn’t the first time his daughter had taken off and
on previous occasions she had always turned up safe and well. She’d been living away from home for eighteen months now, and they weren’t in regular contact.
    Fuck’s sake: he didn’t even have an address for her!
    As the miles rushed by, Daniels’ frustration grew. She wondered if she were on a wild-goose chase when she ought to have been concentrating her efforts on finding the identity of a woman
lying in a freezer in Newcastle. Passing a sign for Yarm, her phone rang. Stanton had faxed his preliminary report to the incident room and an officer had called him back confirming receipt of it.
But he never left anything to chance and wanted to let her know personally. It was as he’d feared: the dead girl had hit the ground with incredible force.
    Daniels thanked him and hung up.
    She tried Gormley’s mobile.
    This time he answered.
    ‘You manage to interview Frank Bull?’ she asked.
    ‘Yep . . .’ His voice was breaking up a little. ‘He seems genuine enough to me, but his evidence hasn’t taken us any further forward.’
    ‘Where are you now?’
    ‘Heading back to High Shaw.’
    ‘You sent Bull on his way?’
    ‘Yeah, conditional on daily contact until you tell him otherwise.’
    ‘Good. You know what to do, Hank. Start with the local airports: Newcastle, Carlisle, Sunderland. If necessary we can fan out from there. I want details of all private airstrips and