‘Yes,’ Hanson said. ‘He was also at Blue Underground on Friday. I’ve called the staff there and it turns out he wasn’t actually working like he implied. He was the other side of the bar, and one of the staff can remember him flirting with Louise Reakes. He’s sure it was her because she came back in asking questions later. Charlie had told him to lie if anyone asked, and say he’d been working. And the bouncers were told to support the idea that he’d been punched by a punter. They thought he actually had been, after Charlie tried to walk home then came back to put ice on it.’

‘Right.’ And he was turning the car across the cross-hatching, swiftly and illegally. He switched the flashing blues on. ‘Did they say where he is?’

‘In his Portsmouth club,’ Hanson replied. ‘Rain. And … Niall Reakes called me. He’s frantic with worry for Louise because she’s apparently in danger. He says we need to track her down, but he can’t raise her or April Dumont, who he’s sure she’s with.’

‘Right, that’s …’

‘The thing is,’ Hanson went on, ‘Niall found out they’re going to Rain. Where Charlie is.’

He thought back to Louise’s accounts of their night out, and how the venue had been April’s idea. He felt a run of cold up his back.

‘Was it Portsmouth they were going to on Monday when we picked them up at the service station?’ he asked.

‘Yes,’ Hanson said. ‘I think so.’

And that had been April’s idea, too. If Issa hadn’t disrupted everything, they would have been off for a night out in Portsmouth. To a club. He was willing to bet he knew which one they’d been headed for.

‘OK. I’ll be there in five to drive you, provided you’ve only had a couple of drinks. Tell Domnall to take Ben and go. Now.’

This couldn’t be happening again. It couldn’t be.

And yet it was. Louise had made no conscious decision to run. By the time she’d surfaced from the terrible waking dream, she was no longer close to the bar. She was running, skidding down the corridor that led to the way out, with her handbag banging uncomfortably into her leg.

There were bouncers on the door. They could help her. She could tell them what was happening and they could protect her until she could call a cab and get hold of April.

But then, as she drew level with one standing in the doorway, she remembered what April had said. Charlie owned this place. Charlie, who she’d wanted to set Louise up with. The same man Louise had once fled from at a wedding, with a better instinct than she’d had when she saw him again, years later.

Fuck, she thought. Fuck. They work for him.