Ben thought that was unusual, too. Not because the call was from San Diego, per se. Le Val received training course inquiries from all over the world, though never so strange and awkward. What made it particularly unusual was that the time here in France was just past midday. California being nine hours behind, it meant that this Linus Twigg had dialled his number at three a.m. This was obviously an important call for him, whoever he was.

‘Uh, I hope I’m not calling at a bad time,’ the stranger went on anxiously. ‘Boy, you’ve no idea how happy I am that we got the right number. What a relief!’

The note of strain in Linus Twigg’s voice was obvious. He sounded tense and emotional, almost at breaking point with nervous exhaustion. ‘Pleased to hear from you, Linus,’ Ben said. ‘But I’m afraid you have me at a bit of a loss. I have no idea who you are.’

‘I’m so sorry. I should have said. We’re all pretty rattled here. It’s the middle of the night and my brain’s just so frazzled I can hardly think straight.’

‘Start again,’ Ben said, in a calm tone to reassure him. ‘Take it easy. Deep breaths, nice and slow. And then tell me exactly what this is about.’

Linus Twigg took another moment to compose himself, then making a concerted effort to talk more coherently he explained, ‘Like I said, I’m calling from San Diego, from our company offices. You don’t know me, but I believe you knew my boss.’

Ben was about to say, ‘Did I?’ when the light flooded in and he remembered that he did know one person in San Diego, though he’d never been there. He hadn’t seen her in a long time, either. He recalled that the last time they’d spoken, not so long ago, she’d mentioned having relocated the family business from New York to San Diego. She’d sounded happy and upbeat. Ben had been able to picture her then the way he was visualising her now: the gypsy curls of raven-black hair, the intelligent dark eyes reflecting the same no-nonsense attitude as the general way she handled herself. She was maybe thirty-six or thirty-seven years old, a very capable lady and not someone to be messed with.

But this anxious-sounding call from her employee in the middle of the night told him something was terribly wrong.

Ben asked, ‘Your boss is Madison? Madison Cahill?’ Then before Twigg could reply, something he’d said flashed alarmingly in Ben’s mind and he added, ‘Hold on. Did I hear you right – what do you mean, I knew her? Has something happened to Madison? Is she okay?’

‘That’s the reason I had to call you,’ Twigg said. ‘We didn’t know what else to do.’

‘Cut to the chase, Linus. Is Madison all right?’