‘Not voluntary.’ Gentle words for something violent. In that first meeting no one said the word ‘abduction’, or ‘murder’. A silent understanding had been reached between DS Finborough and me. I appreciated his tact; it was too soon to name it. I forced out my question. ‘My mother told me she’d been getting nuisance calls?’

‘According to her landlord, yes, she has. Unfortunately she hadn’t given him any details. Has Tess told you anything about them?’

‘No.’

‘And she didn’t say anything to you about feeling frightened or threatened?’ he asked.

‘No. Nothing like that. She was normal; happy.’ I had my own question. ‘Have you checked all the hospitals?’ As I asked it, I heard the rudeness and implicit criticism. ‘I just thought she might have gone into labour early.’

DS Finborough put his coffee down, the sound made me jump.

‘We didn’t know she was pregnant.’

Suddenly there was a lifebuoy and I swam for it. ‘If she’d gone into labour early, she could be in hospital. You wouldn’t have checked the maternity wards, would you?’

‘We ask hospitals to check all their in-patients, which would include maternity,’ he replied and the lifebuoy slipped away.

‘When’s the baby due?’ he asked.

‘In just under three weeks.’

‘Do you know who the father is?’

‘Yes. Emilio Codi. He’s a tutor at her art college.’

I didn’t pause, not for a heartbeat. The time for discretion was over. DS Finborough didn’t show any surprise, but then maybe that’s part of police training.

‘I went to the art college-’ he began, but I interrupted. The smell of coffee in his Styrofoam cup had become nauseatingly strong.

‘You must be very worried about her.’

‘I like to be thorough.’

‘Yes, of course.’

I didn’t want DS Finborough to think me hysterical, but reasonable and intelligent. I remember thinking it shouldn’t matter what he thought of me. Later I would discover that it mattered a great deal.