If it really was Leo of course. Everything about the woman looked so similar from the far side of the road, but the green scarf was an unlikely choice. Since then he had called Leo, left messages, tried to contact her on every form of social media that he knew she used, but he had heard nothing. He had also asked one of his team to check out all corporate finance firms in Manchester with a partner called Julian, but Tom’s main focus had to be on the murder of Hayley Walker. He was in the incident room when Becky returned from several long hours at the hospital. She flopped into a chair, rested her elbows on her desk and cupped her hands under her chin. It was a pose he had seen many times. He always thought of it as her thinking-but-not-getting-anywhere-fast look. ‘What’s up, Becky?’ he asked. ‘Oh, nothing.’ She blew out a puff of air through pursed lips. ‘Except that all I seem to have for my day’s labour is a lot of paper, several lists and not a clue who would have wanted to hurt Hayley Walker.’ She picked up a pile of files and let them drop again on the desk.
