They took two cars to Ryegrove through a filthy wet morning. Anna wanted to interview Beth Farlow and Dr King at the same time. She and Khosa would take Farlow; Holder and Dawes, King. They arrived at a little before nine, when the atrium was full of support staff on their way into work. Morris was on duty in reception. Anna flashed him her badge.

‘I’d like to see Mrs Easterby, please.’

Morris nodded and picked up a phone. Anna was glad to see a sense of urgency. Ten minutes later, an anxious-looking Monica Easterby appeared in reception. They spoke through the metal grille in the porter’s sealed unit.

‘We’d like to speak to Beth Farlow and Dr King again, Mrs Easterby. And we’d like to do that now.’

Easterby’s moon-shaped face stared back blankly.

‘We can do it quietly here if you can give us a couple of rooms. Alternatively, we can do it all at the station—’

‘But they’re not here.’ Easterby’s words cut Anna off mid-vent.

‘What?’

‘I mean, they should be here. When I heard you were in reception, I thought… I don’t know what I thought. I mean, Dr King has a team meeting at nine fifteen, and Beth should have been on at seven thirty. I thought you’d come to say… I don’t know what exactly.’ Easterby shook her head. She looked suddenly uncomfortable

Dawes exchanged a glance with Anna.

‘I can’t remember the last time either of them was off,’ Easterby said.

‘You’ve tried contacting them?’ Anna said.

‘No joy. Phones are ringing but no response.’

‘We’ll need their phone numbers and addresses.’

Easterby’s eyes widened. ‘You don’t think anything’s happened?’

‘Like what?’ Anna asked.

‘I don’t know. Your men at the fence, digging. The bodies on the railway line. I don’t know.’

‘Neither do I. But we’ll find out. If you can get us those addresses and numbers, please.’

Easterby nodded and hurried away, her voluminous clothes rustling, the beads and bangles jangling.

Anna joined the others. ‘Neither of them has turned up for work today.’

‘Done a bunk?’ Holder asked, not expecting an answer.

‘What do we know about King?’

Khosa stepped up. ‘Divorced, lives alone. Children grown up.’

‘And Farlow?’

‘Single, sharing a house with a female colleague, I think.’

Holder said, ‘What are you thinking, ma’am?’

‘I’m thinking about Norcott’s paper golems. The ones you brought back from Wales with Beth and K written inside their heads—’

‘And now they’re both missing,’ Holder finished off the sentence.

‘Oh, Christ,’ Dawes said. ‘You think this is Norcott’s doing?’

Anna started walking towards the exit, fear galvanising her. ‘Once we get the numbers and addresses, we’ll split up. Ryia, we’ll go to Farlow’s, you two go to King’s place. And let’s get on to the phone companies. If their handsets are ringing, we should be able to locate them.’

‘What about Norcott?’ Dawes said.

‘From what you’ve told me, he isn’t going to be easy to find. But let’s get the word out. See if any patrols have spotted anyone hanging around here. Someone with a beard, unkempt hair, lots of layers of clothes.’

Dawes nodded. ‘I’ll get some help from MCU for that.’

Easterby was back in reception. Holder went across to meet her and came back with the numbers and addresses. King’s in Clifton; Beth Farlow’s somewhere in Severn Beach.

‘Keep me informed,’ Anna said to Dawes as they reached their cars.

He nodded. Holder was already on the phone to the service provider to try locating King’s phone, and Khosa was doing the same for Farlow’s. They left in a convoy, Dawes veering up and across the bridge while Anna took the low road along the gorge out towards the estuary.

She had a bad, anxious feeling about this. What had King and Farlow discussed after their interviews? There was probably only one answer, and that was Colin Norcott. She crossed the river at the Cumberland Basin and drove out under the high cliffs of the gorge, speeding past the traffic, the suspension bridge high above them. Next to her, Khosa was listening and nodding, throwing in the odd affirmation until, at last, she put her hand over the mouthpiece. ‘The phone’s at the subscriber’s address, ma’am.’

‘OK. Then why isn’t she picking up?’

Khosa had no answer. They were on the outskirts of Shirehampton when Khosa’s phone rang again. It was Holder on speaker.

‘Right, King’s apartment is a ground-floor flat in Clifton Park. Big Georgian place. Bugger to heat, I expect. Anyway, his car’s not here, so the neighbour said. We’ve looked through the front window and it looks unoccupied. No answer to the doorbell either.’

‘What about his phone, Justin?’ Anna asked.

‘Right, they’ve located it within a half-mile radius of Severn Beach railway station. They couldn’t be more specific.’

Khosa’s head snapped up, her eyes locking on Anna’s face. She’d worked on the MCRTF long enough to abandon the notion of coincidence. ‘OK. You two follow us over to Severn Beach.’

‘On the way, ma’am.’

Anna exchanged a glance with Khosa. Neither of them spoke but Anna pushed her foot down a little harder on the accelerator. Outside, the rain battered the windscreen and Anna upped the speed to maximum.

‘This is all we need,’ she muttered.