Chandler didn’t answer, grabbing the Bible from Tanya. ‘There’s—’ he said, remembering something he was taught in Bible study many years ago. Flipping over the pages he found it. It sent a chill down his spine and he struggled to get the words out. ‘Sar-ai was renamed Sar-ah at the annunciation of the birth of Isaac.’

44

Without a word Chandler bolted out of the office, barely hearing Mitch bark out the orders for a list of all the Sar-ai, Sar-a and Sar-ahs in town and the surrounding area.

Rushing out the front door, Chandler pushed his way past the reporters, jumped in his squad car and sped off. Turning the corner on to Beaumont he called his mum’s mobile. There was probably no need to worry, he told himself. Another wild goose chase. The sick bastard sending them in circles with Chandler on the blunt end of his knife this time. The phone continued to ring, each unanswered blast heightening his sense of panic.

It was still ringing as he swung on to Prince’s, the front axle trying to bury itself into the hot tarmac. Where the hell was she?

On the tenth ring it was picked up.

‘Mum?’ he asked, relieved. ‘Are you—?’

‘Try again,’ said Gabriel, his soft voice infused with glee.

Chandler almost ditched the car into a lamp post, fighting to regain control.

‘Gabriel?’

‘Correct.’

‘What have you done?’

‘Nothing,’ he said, innocently.

‘You better not have hurt them,’ warned Chandler, his foot to the floor now, gaining speed, the trees, the cars – his life – flashing by.

‘They’re safe.’

‘Don’t do anything,’ warned Chandler.

‘You either,’ said Gabriel. ‘And don’t think of informing Mitchell or any of the others.’

‘Don’t hurt them,’ pleaded Chandler, throwing the car on to Mellon’s. The road was now a blur in front of him. All he could picture was his parents’ house and what might be happening there. He blinked hard to try and block it out.

‘You might be too late,’ said Gabriel.

The threat of violence filled the car to bursting point.

‘Let me speak to them,’ said Chandler, his parents’ house not appearing fast enough but the roads too dark and too angular to go faster.

‘You will speak to them again – if you do as I say.’

‘Don’t you—’ started Chandler, barely containing his anger. The tyres screeched as he turned on to Greensand. ‘What do you want?’

‘A swap.’

‘What do you mean – a swap?’

‘An exchange, Sergeant,’ said Gabriel. ‘Heath for your daughter. For Sarah.’

Chandler tried to let the demand sink into his overloaded brain. What did he mean, Heath for Sarah? The man in the jail cell in exchange for his daughter? That couldn’t be.