Later that evening, Inspector John Stevens sat at his desk, waiting for his constable, Jackson, to finish his summary report of their investigation so far. Then he’d be ready to discuss with his superior whether he should hand over the investigation to a team of detectives at HQ. He still wasn’t sure of the rules these days, where his responsibilities stopped and those of other teams started, given all the changes that were still bedding in.

His team of uniformed officers based in the Windermere office were officially called Problem Solvers, because that was essentially what they did. But when does a problem become a criminal investigation? That was the grey area in his mind, because apart from Mel’s cocaine possession there was still no evidence of a crime. So, is it still just a problem? Our problem? He’d have to let his boss at HQ decide on that one, because he really hadn’t a clue.

He was impressed with his officers. Everyone had stayed late to see the case through, and make sure they showed the higher-ups that they could be relied on to do a good job. Even his newest recruit, George, had stayed, and he came into the office now, holding a bin bag at arm’s length.

‘Some guy just dropped this off. Guy on a bike. Said he found it in a layby. He was taking a pee and he saw the bag stuffed behind some bushes.’

Stevens stared at the bag, wondering why he should be involved.

‘Stick it in the bin, George. I honestly haven’t got the energy to deal with fly tippers tonight.’

‘No, guv. You’re missing the point.’ George looked more animated than he had in weeks. ‘It’s got clothes in it. I opened it to see if there were any papers in there with addresses on and that. Look –’ he held up a pink T-shirt with red splodges on it and stared at his boss – ‘does that look like a bloodstain to you?’

Stevens got to his feet, trepidation sending familiar pains across his chest.

‘Put it down, George.’ His voice was sharper than he’d intended and George did as he was told, some of the contents spilling onto the floor. More clothing. Children’s clothing. ‘That could be evidence. Get some gloves, will you, then we can have a proper look.’ He put a hand to his forehead. ‘What about the guy who brought it in?’

‘Oh, he went. Had to get back to Glasgow, he said.’

Stevens cursed under his breath and George blushed. ‘Did he tell you exactly where he found it?’

George went over to the map of their area that was stuck on the wall. ‘From what he said –’ he jabbed a finger at the map – ‘I’d say about there, I think.’

Stevens made a note of the map coordinates and scratched at the fuzz of hair on top of his head. They wouldn’t be able to do anything until the morning now. You can’t search an area by torchlight, he reasoned, not without trampling potential evidence into the mud.

His gut told him things had taken a turn for the worse. No bodies yet, he reminded himself. There may be an innocent explanation for the clothes. A nose bleed. A kid who fell off her bike. There were many scenarios, and most of them bore no relation to criminal activity. And, when he thought about it, this bag of clothes might have nothing to do with this case. Could have been there for weeks.

George came back with the box of gloves and they both put on a pair, George holding the bag open while John pulled out items of clothing. As well as the girl’s T-shirt there was a boy’s hoodie and a man’s fleece. That was it. Three items of clothing, all with what looked like bloodstains on them. Not sinister enough to immediately think three people had been murdered, Stevens decided, but enough blood to start asking questions.

His hand rasped over the stubble on his chin.

‘Okay, let’s put them back in the bag, George, and we’ll get them over to HQ tomorrow, get some DNA tests done.’ Until then, he wouldn’t be sure if this was relevant evidence or not, but it did seem like a strange coincidence, that the bag had been handed to them.

Jackson popped his head round the door.

‘New information. The Welsh guys can’t do anything until tomorrow. They’ve got a major RTC to clear up and I’ve tried ringing the number Mrs Roberts gave us for the farm but I can’t get an answer.’

Stevens tutted, frustrated that they couldn’t make more progress. There were so many possibilities with this case. He swivelled in his chair, letting his mind work through them while he waited for Jackson to finish his report.

With the family still not being found, he decided it was unlikely they were on the hill somewhere. The paths would have been crawling with people at the weekend and he felt that the lost-out-walking scenario had run its course. Grizedale Forest had been well and truly searched and nothing had been found, so they weren’t there. And now this bag of bloodstained clothes.

Of course, they could have just scarpered.

That was an option that he’d been too blind to consider before, given Mel’s assertions that her husband wouldn’t think of doing such a thing. The possibility that he’d taken his chance to leave her had to be put on the list, given the comments from Mr Roberts’ work colleagues. In fact, he felt stupid now that he’d taken Mel’s word for it. Too stupid to pass the case on to his boss without checking a few more things first.

He went into the office to speak to his sergeant. ‘Ailsa, will you give the guy in Scotland a ring, please? Just to tie up loose ends. And Jackson, have you called the hotel Mrs Roberts was staying at yet? We need confirmation of arrival and departure times.’

Jackson nodded. ‘Will do. I’ve finished the report, it’s in your inbox.’

Stevens checked his watch. Nine thirty. Half an hour max, then they’d wrap it all up. They’d put in a long day and it looked like tomorrow could be just as demanding.

He read through Jackson’s report, adding his own comments and clarifying points so they didn’t sound quite so blinkered. He’d just finished when Jackson walked in, frowning, looking at a piece of paper in his hand.

‘Apparently Mrs Roberts checked out on Saturday evening.’

Stevens thought for a moment, tapping his pen against his chin.

‘She said she slept with a client on Saturday night. Ailsa wrote his name down, I think. I suppose if she stayed with him she wouldn’t have needed her room. Call her client, will you?’

After a few minutes, he followed Jackson back into the main office and saw that his sergeant had finished her call.

‘The Scottish guy who rang in earlier thought he saw a man and two children in a Fiat Punto. Little lad had the remains of a black eye, he thought. But they were all wearing baseball caps, so he says now that he might have been mistaken.’

Stevens nodded. ‘Okay, good. There might be CCTV if it was a service station. Will you ask?’

He saw Jackson put the phone down and called to him, ‘Jackson, what you got?’

‘Seems she was telling the truth about timings in terms of leaving the hotel. The man was a bit reluctant to talk at first, and when I told him that Mel had given us his details, he wasn’t too pleased. In fact, I’d have to say he was pretty pissed off. I have a feeling that his wife might have been there. Anyway, he confirmed that she stayed with him and they left at lunchtime the following day.’

‘Eight hours to get from Manchester to here is still a very long time,’ Lockett said.

‘They had a leisurely lunch together.’ Jackson wiggled his eyebrows. ‘Not sure if that’s a euphemism for “had sex for several hours”?’

‘Hmm. Well, I suppose that’s a possibility.’ Stevens looked at the weary faces of his team. ‘Okay, let’s call it a day. Thanks for staying late and good work everyone. We’ll see what tomorrow brings.’

He went back into his office, made a couple of final tweaks to add in the new information, and sent the report. Then he picked up the phone and asked to speak to the boss on the night shift.

‘I’m sorry, John,’ the supervising officer said, after he’d had time to assess the situation. ‘We’ve a major situation going on here. From what you’ve said, even with the bloodstained clothes, which we don’t know are theirs yet, there’s no compelling evidence that anything has happened to the family and I’d say you’ve done everything you can at this stage. It’ll have to wait until morning, then we can see how resources are shaping up, but if you could keep the case for now, chase up the remaining leads tomorrow and we’ll take it from there, okay?’

When Stevens put the phone down, he knew that this was one of those cases that wasn’t going to let him go. He just hoped for a happy ending.