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‘I need all the information you can give me, DS Curwen. This is a murder investigation.’ He hadn’t missed Curwen’s lack of response to his original question.

‘Of course. What about his phone?’

‘We haven’t found it. I’ll ask you again; what was he doing here last night?’

‘I don’t know, sir. He was supposed to be in the station in Bridlington.’

‘OK. What was…?’ Hammond stopped as someone called from across the field, one of the SOCOs. The voice was urgent. ‘Hang on.’ He turned away and hurried across the field.

Curwen had no time to think about his next move; he acted on instinct. Under the guise of looking at something more closely, he slipped his fingers into the inside pocket of Andy’s jacket, where he usually kept his phone. Nothing. He tried the other pockets, but the phone wasn’t there. Shit! No time for anything else.

He hurried across to where Hammond was waiting for him. They walked together over the field to where the coveralled figure was crouched over something on the ground.

It was a dead animal, maybe a cat – the fur was a dull, dark brown. It had been dead for a while, and there was evidence of predation, but there was clear evidence of damage to the head. ‘Something hit it,’ Hammond said. ‘A car? A bike?’

‘A boot?’ Curwen added.

‘Get it preserved.’ Hammond’s gaze met Curwen’s.

Curwen knew what he was thinking – after all the rain, much of the evidence that should have been here would be gone. But some might remain intact on this creature – assuming its death was anything to do with what had happened just a few metres away.

Hammond was distracted by the new find, so Curwen took the opportunity to get out of there, telling the senior officer that he’d be available for an interview back at base.

He had things he needed to do.

Chapter 3

Bridlington

The sky was deep blue, like a summer’s day, but with a chill in the air to say that autumn was almost over and winter was fast approaching. The sun cast sharp shadows on the ground and glinted off the metal of the supermarket trolleys stacked in rows by the door. Becca Armitage leaned back against the wall and lit a cigarette, her first since getting out of bed that morning.

Six days a week she worked here, eight thirty until five thirty. Evenings, she worked behind the bar in a town-centre pub, which gave her just about enough to pay the rent, buy food, keep herself going, marking time until… what? She didn’t really know.

But today, she didn’t care. Today – or rather tonight – something good was happening. She turned her face up to the sunshine, and couldn’t stop herself from smiling.

‘What are you so happy about?’ Jade, another of the supermarket assistants, had joined her for a smoke before their lunch break ended. ‘Sheryl caught her tits in the till roll?’ Becca gave a snort of laughter. Sheryl was one of the other assistants, an older woman who was always complaining about Jade and Becca’s work to the manager, Bryan, and always told him if either of them was a couple of minutes late back from their break.

‘No. I’m just, you know…’ She gestured at the sky. ‘It’s a nice day.’

‘It must be something,’ Jade persisted. ‘It can’t be this place. New boyfriend?’

Becca kept her gaze on the parked cars, trying to look cool, but she could feel her face going pink.

Jade laughed. ‘You’ll learn.’ But she said it kindly and Becca found herself laughing too.

A movement caught her eye. Jade looked up and stiffened. A kid was riding a mountain bike across the car park towards the small space where the delivery trucks unloaded and where the staff went if they wanted to smoke. He was speeding towards them, his head down. Becca just had time to take in the gleaming metal, the bright trim before she braced herself. It looked as if he was going to run right into them. But he glanced up at the last minute and saw them. Alarm crossed his face. He pulled the orange handlebars round in a sharp turn, then did a triumphant wheelie before speeding away.

‘You get back here,’ Jade yelled after him. ‘Little shite,’ she said as the kid vanished round the corner.

Becca looked at her in surprise. ‘Who’s that?’

‘Our Lewis.’ Jade had two kids, a boy of eleven whose dad had never been around and a girl of two. ‘He’s bunking-off again. I send him off to school every morning, but he never gets there. I’ve got the social services all over me but what do they expect me to do? Walk him through the gate? I’ve got to be in work. Little bugger.’ But she sounded more defeated than angry.

It sounded like Lewis was trouble, but there was something about the way he’d sailed past them on his board that reminded Becca of crazy motorbike rides up the coast with Jared, her boyfriend from almost a year ago, and the sense of speed and freedom she had felt. Lewis had been playing, having fun, and she could get that. She knew where she’d rather be. ‘Do you want to go after him?’

‘And get the push? I can’t afford to lose this job. I’ll get sanctioned.’

Becca didn’t know what to say. She didn’t have kids – she didn’t want them, either. Who would?

‘We’ve got people selling drugs all over the estate,’ Jade said, scowling as she nipped her cigarette out. ‘Our Lewis is out there with them all the time. And the police? They don’t give a shit. Maybe it’d be best if the social does take him. He won’t listen to me.’ Her phone chimed and she checked it. ‘Text from the fucking school. Again. What do they expect me to do?’ She sighed. ‘We’d better go back.’

Becca put out her own cigarette and followed Jade back into the shop for an afternoon of shelf-stacking and working the tills.

Her shift finished, she

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