We both had the windows down as far as they would go to try and pick up whatever breeze we could.

‘Do you believe in aliens?’ I asked.

‘Why not?’ he said. ‘Don’t you?’

‘It’s a big universe,’ I said. ‘It’s not going to be totally empty, is it?’

‘So you do believe in aliens,’ he said.

‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘But not that they’re visiting us.’

‘Why not?’

‘Why would they want to travel all that way?’ I asked.

We passed through an elongated village that Dominic identified as Luston. Beyond that, the road narrowed and the dense green hedgerows blocked out the view on either side.

‘Do you think someone snatched them?’ I said, before Dominic could ask any more awkward questions.

‘From two separate households?’ he said. ‘Unlikely. Lured them out, maybe.’

‘Internet grooming?’

‘Nothing on their computers. At least nothing I’ve been told about.’

‘Someone they knew? Or met locally?’

‘Let’s hope it’s a local,’ said Dominic.

Because if it was a local then there’d be a connection. And if there was a connection then sooner or later it could be dug out by the investigation. In the case of Soham the police had their eye on Ian Huntley, the main suspect, from the moment he opened his gob and admitted to being the last person to see the victims alive. Without a connection it came down to hoping they were spotted by the public or came home of their own accord. Or they might be found by the ever-widening search programme – but we didn’t want to think of that.

Dominic asked where I was staying and I asked him what was available.

‘Today?’ he asked. ‘Bugger all. It’s all full of media.’

‘Shit,’ I said. ‘Do you know anywhere?’

‘You can stay in my mum’s cowshed,’ he said.

‘Her cowshed?’

‘Don’t worry. There’s no cows in it.’

I’d have looked for a bit more clarification, but I turned a corner and had to brake suddenly to avoid a white TV satellite van which was trying to park in a gap between a Range Rover and a sleazy-looking maroon Polo. I edged past into the Y-junction that formed the heart of the village, but there were so many media vehicles it was hard to see the houses.

‘Lock up your sheep,’ muttered Dominic. ‘The circus is in town.’

He directed me left again, up a lane that ran up a slope.

‘Church is that side,’ said Dominic. ‘Rectory on your left, pub is back down the way we came.’