‘Evening, sir. PC Sarah Hayes, and this is PC Viv Mortimer . . .’ She looked as though she was about to say more, then stopped, embarrassed. For a moment, Patrick thought she was going to thank him for coming, as though she was hosting some sort of grim drinks party. PC Mortimer was lurking awkwardly in the hallway, and Patrick hoped that the pair had displayed more confidence than this in dealing with the Philipses. From the living room he could hear the low rumble of a man’s voice, the rising and falling tremolo of a woman’s.

‘I asked them to stay in there, sir,’ said PC Hayes. ‘Till we had a chance to brief you.’

He gestured for the uniforms to accompany him back through the front door, out of earshot of the family.

‘Brief away.’

PC Hayes had a notepad in her hand, but didn’t refer to it. ‘Sir, we have Sean and Helen Philips. They went out for the evening, leaving their daughter – actually, she’s Sean’s daughter and Helen’s stepdaughter – to babysit. The daughter is called Alice.’

‘How old?’

‘Fifteen, sixteen in August.’

‘And what about the other child, or children – who was she babysitting?’

‘Just one, sir, the abducted. Three years old; Frankie. She’s the daughter of both Sean and Helen. Like I said, they went out, for a meal at a restaurant called Retro.’

‘Very nice,’ said Carmella.

‘They got back here at 23:25 and found Alice asleep on the sofa. Mrs Philips says she went straight up to check on Frankie – and she wasn’t there. The first thing they did was wake Alice up, who had no knowledge of Frankie’s whereabouts. They searched the house, then Sean went out and looked in the gardens, front and back, and the immediate street, then called us. That was at 23:35.’

‘Any sign of a break-in?’

‘We haven’t touched anything in the house, sir, but the Philipses told us the back door was unlocked. Mrs Philips is sure the door was locked when they went out – and she says she told Alice to lock it again if she let the cat out. Alice swears that she didn’t see the cat all evening and hasn’t been near the back door.’

Patrick gestured to the front door. ‘This door was locked?’

‘That’s what they say.’

He groped in his inside jacket pocket and produced the electronic cigarette he always carried around with him. He’d been quitting and re-starting smoking for a decade, and this was his latest attempt at giving up. Unfortunately it was a bit like having sex with a blow-up doll – he imagined – or eating quorn bacon. Still, it delivered a hit of nicotine and he needed one now. He sucked on it, noticing that PC Hayes smirked slightly at the way the end lit up green.

He exhaled a cloud of water vapour and said, ‘OK, I want to talk to the family. Carmella.’