She stopped in mid-sentence as she entered the kitchen. Her flesh crawled. On the table was a new photograph, a typed note beside it.

She ran over to it and stared down.

The photograph, again taken with a telephoto lens, was of Laura and Cassie, taken from behind as they boarded a tiny, archaic train with just two carriages. At the top in small print was the word Alausí followed by the date. Yesterday.

The note read:

Laura and Cassie having a great time on the Devil’s Nose railway! All the animals fed and watered. Smart thinking, changing the locks. Nice try. Well done on becoming foreperson. Keep our phone with you at all times. You are doing well. Just don’t try a silly stunt like changing your locks again, otherwise we’ll have to hurt Laura. Nothing life-threatening, but a nasty wound. One which in that heat could turn septic very quickly. Hospitals in that part of Ecuador are a bit scarce and a bit shit. I’m sure you understand me.

Moments later her new phone rang. She answered, warily, and heard the familiar male voice from before.

‘You are doing well, Meg, apart from that faffing around with the locks. That won’t stop us. Please don’t underestimate us. I really want your daughter to be safe, believe me, I’ve a little girl almost exactly her age and I know how I’d feel if I knew her life was in danger. So, let’s just behave like adults, shall we?’

‘You bastard,’ she replied, the words coming out before she could stop them.

‘Attitude is not going to help you, Meg. I’m sure you don’t like me at this moment, but when I return Laura safely home, you will thank me and realize I’m your best friend in the world.’

‘In your fucking dreams.’

‘Tut, tut, I hope you don’t use that language with your fellow jurors. What you need to understand is that we’re both on the same side here.’

‘Oh yes? Like one of us is on the side of the Devil and the other on the side of the Angels?’

‘You really need to calm down, Meg. Focus. Think just one thing. You want to see Laura again, don’t you?’

She said nothing.

After some moments, he went on. ‘Of course you do, she’s all the family you have left in the world. How would your life be without her? With her dead, like your husband and son? Think about it, Meg. Think what it would be like to go to the airport and sign a receipt for little Laura in a coffin. Go on, think really hard. What kind of wood would you choose for it? What lining inside? Brass handles?’

‘Stop it,’ she blurted, choked. ‘Please stop.’