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accomplice his brother didn’t know about.’
    Jim pushed his lower lip out thoughtfully. ‘It’s possible. But it’s pure speculation. And right now I don’t have much use for that.’ He raised a hand as Anna made to say something else. ‘I realise you’re perfectly within you’re rights to stand out here all day, Anna, but as a favour to me I’m asking you to move along.’
    ‘Alright, but it won’t make any difference.’ Anna jerked her chin – which bore a thin pearly white scar – towards the Mercedes. ‘Camera or no camera, I’ll find out who he is. And when I do I’ll put his face out there for the world to see.’
    Jim took hold of Anna’s arm and firmly guided her out of sight of the yard. ‘I’d think long and hard before doing that if I were you.’ His voice was low with concern. ‘Trust me, that man’s not someone you want to antagonise.’
    Anna’s lips curled into a contemptuous smile. ‘Oh yeah, what’s he going to do, sue me? You’d better tell him to get in line.’
    ‘Look, I know I can’t stop you from doing what you feel needs to be done. But just be careful how you go about it. Please. I’d hate to see you get hurt.’
    ‘Is that how you brought down Forester and Harding? By being careful?’ Anna held Jim’s hangdog brown eyes for a moment, letting the words sink in. She wrote her mobile number on a notepad and tore out the page for him. ‘You’d better not damage my camera, Chief Inspector, or you’ll be the one in trouble.’
    Jim waited for her to get into a beaten-up old VW camper van across the street and accelerate away, before heading back to the yard. ‘Is she gone?’ asked Burnham.
    ‘Yes.’
    With a nervous glance to make sure Jim was right, Villiers rose from behind the Mercedes. ‘Did she recognise me?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Who was she?’
    ‘Nobody you need worry about.’
    ‘For once I agree with the Chief Inspector,’ said Burnham. ‘She’s just some wannabe journalist. Her name’s Anna Young. She runs a blog called The Truth.’
    ‘The truth about what?’
    ‘About whatever gets her goat. She fancies herself as some kind of crusader exposing injustice. Personally I think she’s got a screw loose. What about you, Chief Inspector?’
    I think I’d like to slap the smugness off your face , thought Jim. He kept his voice neutral. ‘Thank you for your time, Mr Villiers. I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other again.’
    ‘Don’t bank on it,’ countered Burnham. ‘Not unless you’ve actually got something worth talking to him about.’
    Villiers and Burnham ducked into the Mercedes. As Jim watched them drive away, Anna’s words stalked around his mind like a caged tiger. Is that how you brought down Forester and Harding? By being careful?

2
    On the way home, Anna stopped to pick up some flowers. She bought two bunches – lilies for her mum and yellow roses for her dad. As she neared Queens Road, a familiar tightness rose into her throat. Her hands twitched with the urge to make a sharp left into the warren of back roads and rat runs she usually took. She resisted it. Not today , she told herself. Today she felt the need to see where it had happened. She pulled across two lanes of oncoming traffic and parked up in the same spot that the white van had done. A car beeped her. She didn’t notice. She was back in that terrible moment again, fighting for breath as the gloved hand covered her mouth, eyes bulging at the short, stocky figure of Jessica’s abductor. With the vividness of a lucid dream, she saw his chubby cheeks, his short-cropped hair, his dark, ugly eyes. She felt the fist driving into her stomach, felt herself lurching towards Jessica, grabbing for her. So close. So agonisingly close. Then the pain between her shoulder blades and she was falling. The keyring… distant shouts… the van speeding away… Jessica gone…
    Anna snapped into the present with a trembling intake of breath. She shoved the camper van into gear and