Disclaimer: I don't work for the police and have no insider knowledge. I have had a cursory search on the internet for information but any inaccuracies regarding police procedure are therefore my own.


They differ over the number to call. Sybil feels that it's an emergency and therefore 999 is the most appropriate option; Tom is certain that without proof of Emma being in immediate distress, 101 should be their first port of call. In the end such verbal dispute is meaningless; Tom cites sibling rights as his winning hand and because Kennington Police Station is fairly quiet this evening, two officers arrive within half an hour.

PC Alison Johnson is probably in her mid-forties. She's presents the shape of a woman who has reached middle age without ever regaining her pre-baby weight and has now decided to give up the attempt. Tom guesses that she's of West Indian descent, notes that she makes immediate and firm eye contact with each of them and offers an air of professional composure combined with sympathetic compassion. She has a warm, maternal air about her and as someone who has been on the receiving end of little such empathy in recent years, Tom finds her presence, even under such alarming circumstances, oddly comforting. This is in stark contrast to her shift partner Scott Velluci, who in Tom's opinion appears to be about fifteen years old. How is it possible that this pimply youth has passed through police academy training, when it doesn't look as if he is yet old enough to shave? He fleetingly wonders if he is taking part in a school work experience scheme, but he seems to be fully equipped with uniform, together with appropriate electronic devices and it seems unlikely that students would be scheduled for the night shift. Still he seems amiable enough, nodding sincerely as Tom and Sybil each explain their reasons for concern and occasionally bending his head to scribble in a small notebook, although it is PC Johnson who is taking charge. She asks Sybil to explain the full sequence of events over the past two days, all of which she records without comment before turning to Tom.

"So when did you last see Emma?" she asks with a reassuring smile.

"In June" he replies and watches her tip her head to one side, encouraging him to elaborate of his own accord.

"She emailed me and asked to meet up for a drink. We met in a pub in Soho, had two drinks, were there for about an hour and a half, I guess and that was it. It was just a general chat; she seemed to be enjoying her job and her time in London, I didn't have any reason to be concerned by her behaviour at all."

"And have you had any contact with her since? Phone calls, emails?"

He shakes his head and notes a flicker of interest in Alison Johnson's eyes.

"We're not particularly close" he explains and she silently nods, waiting to see if he will extend his explanation. He clears his throat. "We didn't grow up together." Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Sybil's head turn swiftly towards him and is unsurprised that Emma has probably chosen not to share this information.

"Our parents separated when I was…" he pauses as if to try and recollect when the event took place, although in reality he could recite the precice date. "…um, eleven and Emma was, well not a baby, but a toddler I suppose. Less than two, anyway. It was very acrimonious and they chose to split their children up. My brother and I lived with our father while Emma stayed with our mother."

"I see" replies PC Johnson "But you had contact? I mean, did your parents each have access to the other children?"

"My brother and I would visit our mother from time to time yes, but Emma wasn't allowed to come to our house. She only saw our father on rare occasions."

"Why was that?"

He feels a familiar sense of shame and breaks eye contact. "Our father was an alcoholic. Our mother didn't trust him with Emma's welfare."

"But she trusted him with the welfare of you and your brother?"

Tom hesitates. 'Exactly' he thinks but instead replies "Well we were older, I guess."

Sybil gives a light cough and he turns his head towards her. "I think I should add…" she begins nervously, her gaze alternating between PC Johnson and Tom "…that I didn't know any of this and that in fact, Emma has always given me the impression that she and Tom are fairly close." It's clear she is silently asking for his permission to continue and he gives a curt nod. "I'm not suggesting that this is necessarily relevant to her disappearance, but she regularly told me that she was staying with Tom at weekends and I've only this evening discovered that it's not true." She shrugs lightly. "I don't know how important that is to all of this, but…" her voice tails off and Alison Johnson gives her a warm smile.

"Well it's a possibility anyway. So where is your brother now, Tom?"

"In Liverpool. He doesn't have any contact with Emma, although it turns out that she also claimed to have been to visit him recently and I've already clarified that it was another fabrication."

"Is there any particular reason for him and Emma not being in contact?"

"Nothing specific to her, no. He made the decision to break off all contact with our mother about eight years ago and the fallout of that was that he ended any communication with our sisters as well."

"Sisters? Plural?" PC Johnson is writing furiously now. "Right, I need to know exactly who everyone is in your family. Can you just clarify?"

"Our father's been dead for thirteen years. Our mother remarried before he passed away and had another daughter, Amy. She's about fifteen, maybe sixteen now. So they all live in Dublin. My brother's in Liverpool; he's married with two children. Then me and Emma, that's everyone."

"How does Emma get on with your step-father?"

Tom thinks for a moment. "I don't think there has ever been a specific incident. But Emma isn't his child, while Amy is and Emma has always given the impression that he makes that issue fairly obvious. She seems quite resentful of him. I think she made efforts to try and gain his affection when she was younger, but in recent years has generally avoided him. She hasn't lived there since she left school and first went to university. He and I have never had much time for one another, so he tends to find a reason to go out if I visit." He smiles at the policewoman. "I realise that your first line of suspicion is always a male relative, but I don't think David has anything to do with Emma going missing. He's not particularly interested in any of our mother's other children, but I don't believe he's sinister in any way."

"Of course…" she reassures "…but we may have to speak to him, and your brother too. Just to eliminate them from our enquiries."

She asks if Emma has ever disappeared in the past; either ran away as a child, or was unexpectedly absent from university or a job. Neither can be unequivocally certain, but know of no other similar incidents. There are questions about Emma's friends and Tom explains his efforts to contact Fiona, while Sybil reiterates her earlier comments that she is unaware of any specific acquaintances outside of Emma's office.

"Are there any school friends, or old contacts in Dublin that she might still be in touch with?"

"I expect so…" Tom replies "…our mother would have a better idea, although as I mentioned, she hasn't lived at home for six years, so I don't know how up to date Mam will be with more recent friends. Certainly there'll be people from her company's Dublin office. I haven't actually told my mother that Emma is missing yet, though."

"You haven't checked that she's there?" PC Velluci makes his first contribution with a tone of incredulity and Tom glares at him.

"I phoned earlier this evening and she made it clear that Emma hasn't been in touch recently. I didn't want to worry her unnecessarily. At that point, I still thought that Emma might walk through the door at any time. I will of course phone her again in the morning now that I've reported her missing."

"That's fine." PC Johnson's eyes impart a silent message to her colleague and she smiles at Tom once again. "And you told us that you spoke to your brother, so we're pretty sure that she's not at either address. So, what about boyfriends? Has she had any since she's been in London, or mentioned one back home?"

"Neither…" says Sybil without further prompt "… I asked her fairly early on, after she'd moved in here." She appears slightly embarrassed. "Well you know, women ask these things. She said that there wasn't anybody in Dublin and she's not mentioned anyone since she's been here."

"No liaisons of any kind? No one night stands?" PC Johnson turns to Tom. "Excuse me, I'm not implying that she necessarily would, but it's important that we look into any relationship, no matter how fleeting it might have been." Tom is fairly impervious to the concept; doesn't believe that a woman should act any differently from his own behaviour over the years, but he doesn't elaborate and allows Sybil to continue.

"Not that I know of, but of course I now realise that I have no idea where she's been most weekends. Certainly she's never brought anyone home, or mentioned that she's particularly interested in anyone."

"Might there be girlfriends instead?"

Sybil seems momentarily thrown by the question. "Um…well I suppose…no, I don't think so. She's made complimentary comments about actors on TV and I've heard her say that a man in a pub or something is cute, so unless she's said all that to put me off the scent, I don't know."

"She definitely had a boyfriend at uni…" Tom interrupts "…I didn't know him, but I remember our mother mentioning him. I don't think it was a particularly bitter break up; they just went their separate ways, I think."

"We'll need his name, please. Just to eliminate him."

"I'll ask my mother."

PC Johnson pauses momentarily. "Do you find it unusual that she didn't have any romantic encounters at all within seven months, not even a date?" She nods towards the Facebook page that Tom has left open on his laptop. "I mean she's a pretty girl, young and without ties, living in London? Was she put off for some reason?"

Tom and Sybil each shrug and the words "I don't know" are simultaneously uttered, making them both smile. He tips his head; encouraging her to continue and she looks momentarily bashful.

"Is it odd? I don't know. I haven't had a boyfriend since she's been living here either, it's just the way life goes sometimes, I guess. If you don't meet anyone and your life is otherwise busy and fun, then it's not necessarily important."

Tom can't help but find this information of interest, but remains silent and nods appropriately as Alison Johnson concurs before closing her notebook.

"Right, I'm going to need her bank details, mobile phone number and email address please. Do you by any chance know which mobile network she was on?"

"Orange" Sybil replies without hesitation. "We went to the cinema a couple of times; you know, on Orange Wednesdays? She got the code both times."

"And a recent photograph?"

Tom feels helplessly inadequate; believes that this is something that he should be able to provide without difficulty, but the fact is that he has none. There are no relics from their childhood in his flat; he has erased all but the memories and the idea of taking a photograph of his sister while she resides briefly in London has never crossed his mind on the two occasions they were together. Sybil rises to her feet.

"There should be one stored on my computer from a few months ago. We went up to Camden Market together and she asked me to take her photo in front of the sign, but her phone was low on charge. So I took it on mine and forwarded it to her. I've definitely uploaded it."

PC Johnson passes her a business card "Can you email it to that address please? I also need some DNA, is her toothbrush here perhaps?"

"This is sounding quite scary now" Sybil murmurs quietly and Tom tries to catch her eye in order to offer reassurance. He knows that this is standard procedure and bears no relevance to Emma's eventual fate. PC Johnson is working from a check-list to take back to the station before any further action is taken.

"So what's next?" he asks once Scott Velucci has carefully placed Emma's toothbrush into a plastic bag and sealed it. Alison Johnson sits back down on the sofa and her professional demeanour reverts to one of empathy.

"We'll take the information you've given us back to the station and enter it into the Missing Persons database; see if there's a match. As she's been missing for less than forty eight hours, it's unlikely, but that is always the first port of call. It will be handed over to our Missing Persons Co-ordinator, who is a lady named Dawn Pulliver and she'll take it from there. She'll contact you in the morning. I'd imagine that she'll check CCTV records in the first instance at both Kennington and Chancery Lane tube stations; see if Emma made her usual journey into work on Tuesday morning. She'll also look into whether her phone has been switched off; obviously if it's still on, we'll have an idea of where she might be."

"Will she check her phone records?" asks Sybil

"Over time, yes. It takes a bit longer, we have to go through certain bureaucratic procedures to do that, so it might take a few days. She'll probably organise interviews with Emma's colleagues, both here in London and in Dublin; possibly with other people as well, depending on the information your mother can provide about her friends. It all depends on what the first line of enquiry throws up, but those are the usual first efforts in a case like this." She sighs lightly and immediately clears her throat before looking firstly at Tom and then Sybil.

"I should point out that the vast majority of missing adults do so voluntarily." They both nod and Tom opens his mouth to comment, but is prevented by Alison continuing. "However, most missing adults are not young professional women, without financial or mental health issues and no history of disappearing in the past. Based on the information that you've both given me, I suspect that this will probably be treated as an involuntary disappearance and therefore, as a crime."

Sybil emits an audible sound of distress and Tom instinctively places his hand gently on her knee in an attempt to pacify. She turns to him, her face pale and he wishes he could find something to say which might appease the situation.

"You think that she's been taken" he reiterates.

"I think that her being held against her will is the most likely explanation, yes. I'm sorry. I could be wrong and there might be another unexpected reason, but statistically, you should prepare yourself and your family for that outcome."

Tom nods, feeling his chest tighten with fear, while Sybil appears to be on the verge of tears.

"Dawn will talk through everything with you in the morning, but unless the family has a reason to suggest otherwise, she probably won't want to make it public for a day or two; just until the initial enquiries have been exhausted. If there are no leads at that point, she might want to talk to you about doing a press conference or preparing a statement. It's probable that as an Irish national, it will become a dual enquiry with the Garda, but we'll do all the liaising for that; it won't make any practical difference to the family. We usually offer the services of a Family Liaison Officer and it might be more comforting for your mother to have someone local, rather than an officer sent out from London. You would still be entitled to have one here as well."

"I don't need a Family Liaison Officer" Tom says firmly. "Just keep me informed, that's all I ask."

"For the time being, I take it that you're our first point of contact?" He nods his assent. "Once your mother is informed, you can decide between you who it should be, going forward."

PC Johnson turns to Sybil. "We'll have to search your flat I'm afraid; probably in the morning. Do you want to be here?" She nods and glances rather helplessly at Tom.

"I'll come too" he adds "If you ask Dawn Pulliver to contact me first, then I'll let Sybil know what time to expect us all."

"And they'll probably want to take your computer or tablet or whatever you've got, Sybil." adds the policewoman kindly. "Even if you don't believe that Emma's ever used them; we'll need to double check as we haven't got her device to investigate. It won't be for long, you'll get them back within a few days." The room is silent for a few seconds and all formalities appear to have been completed.

"Well thank you for all your help" Tom begins and Sybil attempts to politely concur, although her eyes are watery and she is struggling to compose herself.

"There are many possible outcomes…" Alison Johnson offers gently "…and I promise you that we'll do all that we can to find her."

"We'll be in regular contact" adds PC Velluci, looking intently at Sybil but offering a nominal glance in Tom's direction.

"It'll be Dawn's enquiry now, but we may well see you again at some point" concludes his partner and she leans forward to shake both of their hands before they leave.

Tom and Sybil are quietly lost in their own thoughts after the door has shut, before she appears to remember she's the hostess and offers him a drink.

"Have you got any alcohol?" he asks, no longer caring if such a request seems impolite and she motions with her head for him to follow her into the kitchen.

"There's some white wine open, is that OK? I haven't got any beer, I don't drink it very often."

"Anything, thank you. I might have to just quickly go downstairs for a cigarette, is that OK? Do you mind me leaving you?"

He's only gone for three or four minutes; taking a few furious puffs, before stubbing it out on the ground and returning back to the flat. Sybil has left the door on the latch and is sitting quietly on the sofa, her untouched wine on the coffee table before her.

"I feel a bit numb" she says as he sits down beside her, reaching for a packet of mints in his trouser pocket. "My head's spinning with the fact that she's missing and that the police are taking it so seriously. Part of me believed that they'd just come up with some kind of logical reason that we hadn't thought of and that we'd be able to resolve it. And then I learn that she's been making all these things up; I feel like I don't really know her at all."

He's unsure how to respond; is still coming to terms with the reality of his sister having disappeared and that she's likely to be the victim of a serious crime. He feels as if he has never truly known her; that he could never be certain of her likely intentions or aspirations. Yet he feels protective towards her; knows that the anxiety he is feeling is compounded by guilt for his apathy over the years and fears that he may never have an opportunity to try and make amends. Having knocked back a glass of wine within minutes, his senses are softening and part of him would like to confide in Sybil, feeling that her natural compassion might offer him a brief opportunity for atonement. Yet he has no desire to add to her obvious distress; feels guilty that she has been unwittingly placed in this position and wants to make things as easy as possible for her.

She doesn't appear to even notice as he helps himself to another glass of wine, remaining silent and contemplative before suddenly taking a deep breath and turning to face him.

"I'm sorry. I'm being very self-absorbed here; this is far worse for you than it is for me…" she pauses momentarily and he fails in a brief attempt to contradict her "…whatever relationship you had with her, she's still your sister. I don't want to get in your or your family's way at all, but I want to help you, that's all. Whatever I can do to assist, you will let me know, won't you? I mean, if you want to be on your own, I'll understand…"

"I'd be glad of your help…" he replies quickly and it's sincerely meant "…I'd appreciate having someone else to talk to about it, to be honest."

"Good" she gives a weak smile, which stretches into a yawn and he realises with a start that it's almost three o'clock in the morning.

"What will you do about work tomorrow?" he asks, hoping that she'll clarify what she does in her response.

"I'll phone the night shift in a minute so that they can get a locum in. Either that or they'll manage with a nurse and just send the more serious cases to A&E." Her answer hasn't entirely resolved the issue in his mind, but he realises that he's too tired himself to start questioning her.

"Right, well I'll leave you to it and give you a call as soon as I hear from this Missing Persons Co-ordinator."

"Are you going home?" she asks and he isn't quite sure what she's anticipating.

"Are you worried about being on your own? Do you want me to stay until it gets light? I need to go home for a bit, but I can wait if you'd feel happier?" He didn't submit the first part of his article and he really needs to freshen up; doesn't want to face another set of police officers in two day old clothes. She's watching him without expression and he keeps talking; tiredness and alcohol mixing together to create jumbled thoughts, which spill out without edit.

"I don't really want to sleep in Emma's bed…" he suddenly imagines with horror that she might then think he's implying that he sleeps in hers, so his voice rises with anxiety "…I can just kip here on the sofa for a bit if you like, if you're nervous, I don't mind…whatever makes you feel safest really."

"I'll be fine" she eventually declares and nods her head firmly to confirm her decision. "Nobody took her from the flat, did they? I'm perfectly safe. Let's each get a bit of sleep and maybe that will help us face whatever tomorrow brings."

"You're sure?" In all honesty he's relieved that she's made the decision. He finds his immediate comfort with her company quite alarming; after all he scarcely knows anything about her, but he's grateful that she isn't bombarding him with questions about his family history. It would be a mistake to become over familiar; to blur his sister's companionship for his own. Her support might be invaluable and he doesn't want her to feel that she needs to back away.

"If you change your mind; ring me and I'll come back" he promises. She offers to phone for a taxi, but he says he'll walk. It's true that he would like to clear his head for a few minutes in the fresh air, but in all honesty, he's feeling so overwhelmed that he is desperate for another cigarette before he is enclosed within a vehicle for twenty minutes.

"I'll see you in the morning" he says as he turns at the door. "Try to get some sleep if you can."

She leans forward marginally and he wonders if she's going to kiss him on the cheek, but she seems to think better of it and instead grasps his hand. It's not a shake as such; after all it's the wrong palm, but a clasp of reassurance which offers support and empathy in equal measure.

"See you tomorrow, Tom" and with that he leaves.