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intercom’s buzzer. A few minutes later Mac looked around himself in dismay as he stood amidst the chaos of her flat. “What did the police say?” he asked. “I mean, they must think this is linked to Luke’s disappearance, right?”

“They’re not commenting either way. Maybe whoever it was . . . I don’t know, but it seems to me they were looking for something.”

“What the fuck for, though?” He picked up a broken ashtray from the floor and gazed down at it. “Christ, Clara, what if you’d been in? There’s no way you’re staying here anymore.” His worried eyes met hers. “Get some stuff and come to mine.”

She remembered then the photographs she’d found and went to fetch them. “Look at these,” she said, watching him closely as he slid the pictures from the envelope and stared down at the unknown woman’s face.

“Who’s this?” he asked.

She eyed him suspiciously. “You don’t know? Really?”

“No. Never seen her before. Why?”

“At a rough guess I’d say it’s someone else Luke was shagging behind my back,” she said bitterly. “I found them hidden in the office.”

“No way, Clara,” Mac said with complete certainty. “He would have told me. I know he would. He said Sadie was the only one.”

“Yeah, well, Luke’s a liar, isn’t he?” she said quietly. “He’s lied to me and he’s probably been lying to you too.” She took the photos from him and angrily stuffed them back into the envelope. “He probably wanted to sneak a look at them whenever I was out. I mean for fuck’s sake”—she gave a short, exasperated laugh—“it just keeps getting better, doesn’t it? What else am I going to find? A secret wife tucked away somewhere? A couple of kids?”

They fell silent for a while, until, looking around himself, Mac said uneasily, “Why don’t we just get out of here? This place is giving me the creeps.”

It was while she was in the bedroom shoving clothes into a bag that her mobile rang. “This is DC Mansfield,” the officer said when Clara picked up. “Can you come to the station? As you know, the press conference is this afternoon. It would be very helpful if you could say a few words.”

Her heart sank. “I really don’t know if—”

“I would urge you to, Clara,” she said. “This kind of appeal has more impact if it has the involvement of family and loved ones.”

“But . . . wouldn’t his mum and dad be more—”

“Unfortunately they’ve declined. Understandably they don’t feel up to it right now.”

“Yes. I see. . . .” She thought about Rose and Oliver, of the agony they were going through, and then she thought of the abandoned van, the sickeningly bloodstained seat. “When do you need me?” she asked, glancing at Mac.

—

They were on their way to the police station when Clara asked casually, “What do you think of Tom, Mac?”

He looked at her in surprise. “Tom? Why?”

She shrugged. “No reason. He came over earlier, that’s all. Said he was in town meeting clients and thought he’d see how I was. I mean, you’ve known him a long time—what’s your take on him?”

Mac frowned. “That’s odd. I would have thought all his clients were local to him.” He thought for a moment. “I suppose he can be a bit uptight, and he’s a bit of a loner, but he’s not a bad sort of bloke. I remember Luke telling me they were close when they were kids, but—”

“Really?” She felt a fresh flash of surprise. They’d certainly never seemed particularly close. She hadn’t given it much thought before: not having any siblings herself, it wasn’t a relationship for which she had experience. She’d assumed the distance between the two of them was due to the five-year age gap, Tom’s habit of talking down to his younger brother, or their differing personalities.

“Yeah,” Mac went on. “From what Luke said, all three of the kids were pretty tight before Emily left. I don’t know what happened, though. Like I said, Tom checked out of the family after she disappeared, and Luke and his parents became quite wrapped up in each other. Maybe that caused a bit of a rift.” He glanced at her. “I always got the feeling it upset Luke; I think he wanted to be closer to his brother growing up. Tom just didn’t want to know.”

Clara considered this. How hurtful that must have been, to be rejected by his older brother, especially after losing his only other sibling so young. She realized that Luke had never really talked about his relationship with Tom and she hadn’t thought to ask. Uncomfortably she wondered now what else she might not know about her boyfriend, what other sorrows Luke might have been hiding, behind his cheerful smile.

—

When Clara and Mac arrived at the station, she was struck by the sense of urgency and purpose in the air. There were a number of new officers to meet, members of the Major Incident Team, including a family liaison officer and a press officer as well as a Detective Chief Inspector Judith Carter, a heavyset, rather austere-looking woman who explained to Clara that she was the senior investigating officer on the case, Anderson keeping back respectfully as they talked. Every one of the officers she met was friendly, reassuring, and grateful for her assistance, but still she felt entirely overwhelmed. Her natural compulsion to be helpful, to do the right thing, combined with the knowledge that if she messed it up, Luke’s life was at stake, made her heart pound faster and faster, a thick lump of anxiety building in her chest.

Soon she was ushered into a side office where Anderson and the press officer went over with great patience what she would need to say, and before she knew it, she was hurried onward to another, larger room, a mic was fitted to her top, and she was directed toward a bank of tables in front of a blue screen, the Met’s insignia at its center. She sat between DCI Carter and DS Anderson,

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