‘What are you doing? What are you doing?’

The men disregard her, taking the stairs two at a time to check the bedrooms, striding into the downstairs rooms. There’s a thundering of feet overhead, and the shifting of the hatch as they check the attic space.

‘Target not found!’

Sheila’s face is red with rage and trauma.

‘What are you doing!’ she yells. ‘If you’re looking for Brian, he isn’t here!’

By the time Naylor gets to her, Sheila’s sitting on her chair, dabbing at tears. Naylor offers her a glass of water, but Sheila declines.

‘Where is he, Sheila?’ asks Naylor.

‘Spain. And that’s where I’m going.’

The claim makes sense; she’s decked out for travelling, fully made up despite the early hour, dressed in a bright skirt and jacket which couldn’t be anything but holiday wear. If further proof is needed, there’s a large suitcase and a carry-on bag in the hall.

The commander makes his initial report.

‘We haven’t recovered any electronics yet, no laptops or phones, and there’s not much stuff in the wardrobes either,’ he says. ‘Looks like your man’s done a runner. By the way, there’s a taxi outside says he’s got a booking.’

‘That’s my taxi,’ says Sheila, struggling to stand up. ‘All of you, out. I’ve got a plane to catch.’

‘Tell him he’s not needed,’ Naylor says to the commander.

‘Of course he’s needed,’ Sheila objects. ‘Tell him to hang on, I’m getting my stuff.’

‘Sorry, Sheila, no airport for you today,’ says Naylor. ‘We need you to tell us where we can find Brian.’

‘I’ve told you, he’s in Spain.’

‘What’s he doing over there?’

‘He’s told me not to talk to you, so I’m saying nothing more. And if I miss my flight, I’ll be wanting compensation, same as for the door, for the damage you’ve done there. That just wasn’t necessary, all that drama. If you’d just knocked and waited, I would have let you in.’

The early morning’s taking its toll, and by the time they’re back at Ashridge Naylor’s dog-tired, running on the sugary fuel provided by the peanut butter Krispy Kreme doughnuts Hagen picked up en route. When she asks him why he chose the peanut butter, he tells her they have valuable protein.

Campbell’s pleased to see them because he’s expecting a good result. When they tell him Birch has slipped the net, he slams both hands on his desk.

‘Goddammit! Did the wife have anything to say?’

‘Soon as we put her in the interview room, she went no comment,’ Hagen tells him. ‘Obviously Birch told her how to play it. Without a reason to hold her we had to let her go, but she’s been left in no doubt her holiday’s cancelled.’