Free Touch by Mark Sennen Page A

well as the murder,’ she said. ‘We need to find out who the girl is, but that is being coloured by the fact she is dead.’
    She was right. Already there had been a fair number of reports from people who claimed to know the girl, where she had been and what she had done. All of them, so far as the team knew, were plain incorrect. Well-meaning but misguided members of the public often did that sort of thing. They wanted a resolution to the story and the gaps were like missing an episode of Eastenders. In this case you couldn’t catch up on iPlayer or ask your friends what had happened so your mind filled in the blanks for you.
    ‘Ma’am?’ Enders broke into her train of thought. ‘I’ve got the results on screen.’
    Savage had asked Enders to come up with a list of mispers reported in the last week and now she went over to where he was sitting in front of a terminal navigating through the missing person register on the COMPACT MISPER system. Riley and Calter came over too and the three of them peered over Enders’s shoulders at the screen.
    ‘Four on my shortlist, ma’am.’ Enders said as if announcing the winner of the Christmas raffle.
    ‘Number one, Alice Nash. She’s sixteen, from Ashburton, a town not far from Malstead, just along the A38 from Buckfastleigh. There seems to be some real concern about her. She left her work place in Ivybridge and never boarded the bus to Ashburton. When her dad realised that she hadn’t got her usual bus or the following two he called us. Some report of her possibly accepting a lift from–’
    ‘Idiot!’ Calter said, flicking the top of Enders’s head with her hand. ‘Read the date, Sherlock. She went missing Monday evening. Isaacs had found the body by then. Worrying for the parents, sure, but no way she can be our victim.’
    Enders looked sheepish before carrying on.
    ‘Lindsey Nation, nineteen, I can see it’s not her. She’s blonde, not dark-haired like the girl in the wood.’
    Enders clicked through his list.
    ‘Um, Jenny Smith?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Simone Ashton?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘That’s your lot from round here.’
    ‘We need to widen the area or the timeframe or both.’ Calter chipped in.
    ‘Evidently.’
    Enders went back to the search page where he changed some of the parameters.
    ‘Still sticking to Devon and Cornwall, but extending the date range to six months.’
    ‘That’s long enough. The girl died in the last week or so.’
    ‘Right.’ Enders hit the return key and data filled the screen. ‘Bloody hell. Eighty-four names.’
    ‘I’ll get some coffees, ma’am,’ Calter said as Enders began to scroll through the results.
    Savage nodded and examined the list. They had searched for females between the age of fifteen and twenty-five missing in Devon and Cornwall in the past six months and the results were staggering. The figures would be distorted by the fact that the area was a tourist destination; many on the list would have gone missing while on holiday and turned up later back on their own patch. The problem was nobody bothered to inform the police. Even so the number seemed high. Savage knew a couple of hundred thousand people went missing in the UK each year but she’d always mistrusted the figure. Most would turn up, but the official guidance set down in procedure was clear: if the investigator had any doubt then they were to think murder. Her thoughts were interrupted by Enders jabbing at the screen.
    ‘Don’t bother with the coffees, I’ve found her.’
    It was too late as Calter had already gone, but Enders was right. Savage looked at the record and the dead girl’s face stared out at her. Kelly Donal, eighteen years old, enrolled on an Early Childhood Studies course at the university with a work placement at Little Angels nursery. Her address was listed as Beacon Park, Plymouth. She had been reported missing thirteen weeks ago.
    Enders gave a quick précis of the notes.
    ‘We have a report of an incident at the flat in the