Jessica checked in with Izzy, who said they were struggling with the various agencies that operated the cameras. She then got the contact number for the shop’s owner. Jessica called Victor Burnham and described the footage before asking if he knew exactly which magazine it was the man had picked up. The angle of the camera wasn’t the best but, with her descriptions, the owner narrowed down the possible titles to three or four. Because he had been shut on the Sunday, he was convinced none of the publications had been sold since the person picked it up. Jessica told him not to touch the rack as she would arrange for someone to come and collect the magazines. If they could isolate fingerprints, they could run it against their database to see if they had any record of the man.

While that was all going on, the scientist had managed to get some better definition printouts of the man looking at the cameras. Jessica took the hard copies and asked him to email the digital versions then drove back to the station. The jokes about her driving were definitely in the back of her mind as she was careful and stuck to all the speed limits.

As she was waiting to pull into the station’s car park, three marked police cars raced out of the entrance, their sirens and lights going. Jessica parked and walked into the front reception area.

‘Where were they off to?’ she asked the desk sergeant.

‘There’s something going on in town. I’m not completely sure, it’s been mad here this morning.’

As they were talking, Jessica’s mobile phone started to ring and she saw it was Cole’s extension. ‘I’m downstairs,’ she said as her way of answering.

After a short conversation with her boss, Jessica turned and ran back to her car – and this time she wouldn’t be driving quite so carefully.

20

Given his twenty-one years of eating and drinking experience, Frank Rice was finding it hard to figure out quite how he’d managed to forget how to do something seemingly simple. In essence, he’d done everything right. He had picked up the cappuccino mug, put it to his lips and then, for some reason that utterly escaped him, breathed in the milk foam instead of sipping it.

The woman sitting opposite him asked if he was all right and, despite not being able to get a word out without coughing, he assured her he was. In actual fact, every time he breathed in, he could feel a tiny bit of liquid at the top of his lungs while his nose still tickled. He had also burned the outside of his right index finger trying to hastily put the cup down as the spluttering began and was pretty sure his eyes had been bulging at one point.

All in all, it wasn’t the best impression to be making on a first date.

Frank tried to smile but the woman in the chair across from him had her head tilted slightly to the side with a puzzled look. ‘Are you sure you’re . . .’ she started.

‘Yeah, no worries.’ Frank nodded as he spoke but felt his voice lurch down an octave as he struggled not to cough again.

The woman picked up a napkin from under her own cup and held it out towards him. ‘Do you want a tissue?’

Frank reached out and took it before turning around, hunching over and letting out the most guttural heave he had ever managed without throwing up. He finally felt the liquid come back up his windpipe and swallowed it properly then turned back around to face the woman. ‘Sorry about that.’

Kelly Stark was clearly trying not to laugh. ‘I’m not saying I’ve been out with too many guys I’ve met on the Internet but you’re definitely the first who’s nearly choked to death.’

Frank didn’t want to ask how many she had been out with – but she was his third Internet date and the first two hadn’t gone too well. The first had been a little similar to the current one in that they had opted for an afternoon meeting in a cafe. After they sat down at a table, she’d asked him if he minded that she had asked to meet on an afternoon instead of an evening. His reply still haunted him. ‘Yes it’s fine – I’m not a sex attacker or anything.’

It had taken him a few days to figure out his own thought process. When he had first signed up for the dating website, he read the Frequently Asked Questions section. In that, it advised people to meet in public places, which seemed sensible. Frank had confided in only one friend that he’d joined the service and, after telling him he was all set for a coffee date with a girl, his mate had joked that the only reason she had asked to meet during the daytime was so he couldn’t attack her.

With the mixture of his friend’s joke and the site’s FAQ in his mind, for some reason he thought the best thing he could say to a stranger on the first date was that he had no intention of assaulting her.

There wasn’t really anywhere to go from there.

The second date had definitely gone better and Frank was on the brink of asking her about a possible second meeting. That was until the woman’s tiny dog had stuck its head out from her handbag. Frank didn’t hate animals but he wasn’t a massive fan either and he figured dogs just weren’t meant to be that small. He felt a shiver go down his back each time the creature appeared and it was clear that wasn’t going to work either.

When he had first seen the pictures of Kelly and sent her a message, he hadn’t thought for a moment she would message him back. She had gorgeous long straight black hair and big brown eyes. He knew she was probably out of his league and his friend had put it best. ‘She’s an eight or a nine, mate and, if you’re lucky, you’re a five.’

As Kelly smiled across the table at him, Frank wasn’t sure if she was trying not to laugh at him but the crinkles around her eyes and the way her dark eyes grinned with her lips meant marking her down as an ‘eight’ was definitely underplaying it.

‘Sorry, I just sort of breathed the frothy bit in,’ Frank said.

‘I wondered why you’d gone purple.’ Frank took a sip from his cup and managed to swallow it without choking. Kelly grinned widely and silently clapped him. ‘Well done.’

Frank wasn’t sure how to respond. He was used to feeling uncomfortable around girls but hadn’t met too many who were actually friendly.

‘So, why did you email me then?’ Kelly asked.

Frank knew the answer was, ‘Because I saw a little bit of cleavage in your picture, clicked to have a closer look and then thought you actually seemed quite nice’ but didn’t think that would be the best response. ‘I just saw you liked the cinema and music and thought we’d get on,’ he said.

Kelly took a sip of her strawberry smoothie and had a playful smile on her face as she put the glass down. ‘I guess there aren’t that many people interested in movies and music. What type of films are you into?’

Frank thought the look on her face showed she was teasing him and there was a definite hint of sarcasm in her voice. He tried to give himself a few moments by breathing deeply and looking as if he was thinking about it. He didn’t want to say the wrong thing and was trying to remember his friend’s advice about asking a question, then agreeing with the girl’s answer rather than letting her do the initial talking. At the time it sounded like a ridiculously sexist notion but, as he weighed up whether to admit ‘The Lion King’ was his favourite movie, he saw the sense in it. If he had asked the question and she had named some subtitled indie movie, he could have agreed with her and sounded vaguely intellectual. Choosing a children’s cartoon could either show he was endearingly sensitive or make her think he was tragically immature. ‘Probably “Citizen Kane”,’ Frank said, thinking it sounded like a safe option, even though he had never seen it.

‘Oh, that’s a good choice. I wish I could say something like that but I still like stuff like “Toy Story” and “The Lion King”,’ Kelly replied. Frank nodded along with her choices but was annoyed with himself for not being honest. ‘What else do you get up to?’ Kelly asked.