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“The sort where you ain’t stood freezing waiting for punters.” Another drag, another exhale. “People ring you direct. Take you somewhere nicer.”

Murray noted that down.

“When did you last see her?” Harrison asked.

“Last month maybe.”

“Maybe?”

Kayleigh rolled her eyes. “You ever tried keeping track of days when you work all nights?”

Fair enough.

“Talk us through the last time you saw her,” Murray said gently. “Did she mention where she was going? Any jobs she’d lined up?”

Kayleigh scratched at the skin beneath the cuff of her hoodie. “Said she had a punter. Proper money this time. Said she’d finally be able to pay me back.” A hollow laugh escaped her. “I were desperate for it an’ all. But I don’t get picked for that sort anymore, do I? Not young enough.”

Harrison studied her while she spoke. Addiction and exhaustion sat in the lines around her mouth, but there was something else too. Resignation. Coming from years spent surviving rather than living. The street aged people brutally fast. Especially women no one bothered looking at twice unless they were paying.

Lauren Pike had been different. Early twenties. Pretty in the polished, vulnerable way that sold well to men with money and preferences. A girl who got moved off corners and into private bookings.

Kayleigh was what happened when that market decided she’d expired.

“Did she say who the client was?” Harrison asked. “Whether someone was collecting her? Where from?”

If they could pin down a pickup point, they might still get lucky with traffic cams or shop CCTV before it vanished for good.

“Nah.” She frowned. “She took my car.”

Harrison glanced up. “Where’s the car now?”

“If I knew that, I wouldn’t have reported her missing, would I?”

“So the car is missing too?” Harrison asked.

“Looks like.”

“Did you give the vehicle details to police?” Murray asked.

Kayleigh rolled her eyes. “Think that’s half the reason no one cared. Said she’d probably buggered off somewhere. ‘cept Lauren couldn’t afford food half the time and I only had less than quarter tank in my car, so her suddenly disappearing with it on holiday felt a bit of a stretch.”

Harrison glanced at Murray, who noted that down. They’d need the vehicle circulated wider. Recovery yards. ANPR. Scrap sites.

“Did Lauren seem frightened before she disappeared?” Murray asked.

Kayleigh snorted. “Girls round here are always frightened. Though she thought she had protection. Turns out, you’re on your own in this game whatever, eh?”

“Protection?”

Kayleigh shrugged one shoulder. “Lauren thought she were moving up a bit. Better clients. Better money. Not standing freezing half the night waiting for blokes to slow down. Thought she’d got herself proper looked after.”

“Looked after?” Harrison frowned. “Do you mean she had a pimp? Someone arranging clients for her.”

“Not like you think.”

“Then explain it to me.”

“Girls talk, don’t they? One gets introduced to someone. Then another. You get passed numbers. Private jobs. Men with money. Somewhere warm to go instead of standing out in rain.” She took another drag. “Lauren thought she’d got lucky.” She tutted. “Even got that bloody tattoo to prove it.”