Hailstones beat against the window as Gina swigged the rest of the cold coffee. She’d arrived at the station for a six thirty briefing, and the last hour had gone strangely. Thoughts of the case and her chat with Hannah had kept her awake most of the night, and had been whirring through her mind all morning. Her thoughts were filled by memories of her dark past, the abuse, the case. Saturday, Terry, Briggs, Hannah, Avery, Baby Jenkins and Luke, poor Luke. Deborah, where was Deborah? She’d stared at the case files for the past hour, after chasing the lab for results. She once again ran through the details of the reports from O’Connor and Wyre. There was a knock on her office door. ‘Come in,’ she called.

Wyre entered with a smile on her face and placed a printout of an email on her desk. ‘Check this out. Forensic results on the towel Baby Jenkins was wrapped in.’

Gina lifted the page and smiled back. ‘Let’s hope it gives us a clue to this mystery.’ After a moment of glancing back and forth at the pages, Gina looked up. ‘Traces of red diesel and dog hair, specifically a black dog.’ Gina placed the paperwork back on her desk. ‘Call another briefing now. I’ll be through in a couple of minutes.’

Wyre nodded and left. Gina swigged the dregs of her coffee and headed straight towards the incident room. As she reached the main hub, Jacob arrived, removing his coat and scarf while heading towards the kitchenette. ‘No time for coffee at the moment,’ Gina said. He pulled a tissue from his pocket and held it to his mouth as he continually retched and coughed mucus into it.

‘Sorry about that. Even Abigail deserted me after about half an hour last night. Have we had a breakthrough?’

‘We have a lead,’ she replied. Gina noticed a crusty redness around Jacob’s eyes.

‘What is it?’ he asked as he dropped his coat on a chair.

‘I’m about to brief everyone now.’

He hurried beside her, blowing his nose as he walked. They entered the incident room. Everyone’s eyes were on Gina.

‘We’ve just had the forensics report back on the baby’s blanket. Traces of red diesel and black dog hair were found amongst the fibres. As we are bordering the Warwickshire countryside, I suggest that, to begin with, we make a list of farms and country businesses within a ten-mile radius. O’Connor, I’m going to task you with the research. I want the name and address of every business that is operating in this area. Everywhere you go, everyone you interview, look out for a black dog. This could be the key to finding Deborah Jenkins. Wyre, check with all the local vets. We’re looking for owners of black dogs. I know there will be stacks of them but we may be able to cross-reference later on.’

‘Have we had the DNA results back on Mr Jenkins as yet?’ asked O’Connor.

‘No. I’ll keep you updated. I’m sure it is just an elimination test though. Right, as you were. Let me know of any developments as soon as they come through. Jacob and I will be speaking to Deborah’s colleagues today. In turn, we’ll keep you updated at all times. Thank you.’

O’Connor swivelled in his chair to face his computer screen. Wyre was adding the new information to the incident board and everyone else spoke quietly, sharing thoughts and notes.

Jacob followed Gina towards the kitchenette. ‘Time to grab a quick coffee before we head out,’ she said. ‘Are you okay?’

‘It’s much worse when I first get up. Give me an hour and I’ll be back to my usual good-looking self. I’ll go and have a good blow of my nose before we leave, shift some of this snot,’ he said with a smile. His unshaven face and wonky tie said it all. He’d had about as much sleep as she’d had.

‘I was looking over the workplace interviews this morning,’ she said. ‘I remember the director quite well, Lynne Hastings. I gave her a call this morning. All but one member of staff is still working there and they’re all in today. Oliver Stain died six months after Deborah disappeared. His mother had picked him up on the night of Deborah’s disappearance and he’d gone with her to the pub to have a family celebration. He was never a suspect.’

‘What are you thinking now?’ Jacob asked.

‘There was a colleague, Callum Nelson, that we briefly considered, but nothing ever came of it. Not after initial investigations. But I need to go over this again. We’ve missed a trick somewhere.’

Jacob poured two coffees out and passed one to Gina. She leaned against the worktop and sipped the drink. ‘There is still the possibility that it was a stranger,’ he said.

‘There is that. I can’t think of anyone we’ve interviewed who lives or works on a farm. We haven’t come across anyone with a black dog either. Maybe it is a stranger, but why Deborah? What were they doing driving up the road where she worked, when all the units were closed, opportunistically looking for a woman to enslave for years to come? I don’t buy that it was that random.’ Gina stared at the coffee in her cup.

‘But we keep coming back with nothing when it comes to her friends and family,’ said Jacob. ‘My mind keeps going back to that smarmy Avery knowing something.’

‘We have him on CCTV checking in at Birmingham airport. He never left the airport and subsequently had a holiday in Spain with a collection of tacky Facebook updates to prove it. I know what you mean though: he has a face that you’d just like to punch. If only this case were that simple. It’s like we’re dealing with a ghost. Someone who is right under our noses, but we just can’t see them. Again, could the kidnapper have an accomplice?’

Jacob wiped his nose on the back of his hand. ‘It’s a possibility. I think I need to go to the bogs and sort out my sinuses before we head off.’ Gina nodded and took another slow sip of her coffee.