Page 116 of In Too Deep

He wasn’t quite refreshed but at least he was alive.

The whiteboards had expanded again overnight, Lauren Pike’s timeline stretching between Hull and Hartswick in increasingly messy lines and overlapping actions. Harrison shrugged out of his coat and headed straight for the MIR. Murray caught him halfway down the corridor, holding two coffees and a thick brown envelope tucked beneath one arm.

“You look thrilled to be here, guv.” She handed him a coffee.

“I’m considering retirement.”

“That’ll last about six hours.”

“Generous estimate. Though, it would give me time to binge Stranger Things.”

“You’d need longer than that.”

“Dammit.”

She then handed him the envelope. “Humberside finally came through.”

That stopped his yawn midway. “Vice?”

“And outreach. Some organised crime crossover intel too.” Murray fell into step beside him as they entered the incident room together. “Lauren Pike was known across several support services. Mostly low-level concerns at first. Vulnerability markers. Possible drug dependency. But towards the end she’d apparently started attending private bookings rather than street work.”

Harrison took a sip of coffee while simultaneously trying to open the file. “Any names?”

“A few. Most repeat clients are aliases or dead ends. But there’s crossover between Lauren, two other missing girls from Hull over the last five years and a handful of recurring locations.”

“Locations where?”

“Private rental properties mostly. Temporary lets. Empty flats. One warehouse unit near the docks.” She collapsed onto a chair. “And there’s mention of invite-only parties connected to businessmen travelling between Hull and North Yorkshire.”

Harrison lowered his coffee. “Businessmen?”

“That’s how one of the outreach workers described them. Men with money. Company cars. Drivers sometimes. Girls being offered considerably more than they’d make on the street to attend private parties.” Murray nodded at the file. “Different locations, different names. Nothing anyone managed to pin down.”

“But the same girls?”

“Some of them. Lauren included.”

Harrison opened the envelope properly.

It wasn’t a clean intelligence package. More a patchwork of concerns, outreach referrals and half-developed safeguarding notes gathered across several years. One outreach worker had noted that a woman she’d been supporting became visibly frightened when asked who organised the parties. Another had written only that the clients were well connected.

Harrison read that line twice. “No names?”

“None that survived checking.”

Which could mean there were no names to find.

Or that someone had been very careful about leaving them.

Harrison turned another page. “How about the car? Anything useful?”

Murray nodded. “Humberside Roads Policing pulled additional CCTV and ANPR overnight. Lauren’s Fiesta was captured leaving Hull the evening she disappeared.” She glanced at her notes. “Last confirmed hit has it heading towards Hartswick before it turns off onto the rural roads near the industrial estate.”

“And after that?”

“Nothing. Once it leaves the main routes, it disappears. No ANPR. No petrol station cameras. No town-centre coverage.”

“So either the car’s still sitting somewhere no one’s found it, or someone’s made sure no one ever will.”