As she locked the door, she decided that she was going to need a lot more time with that young man. There had been something in his voice when he talked about Kerry Anderson, something clingy and unhealthy. Like he knew her better than anyone else. Like he worshiped her. Nikki shuddered slightly. She knew from past cases, one in particular, that that kind of relationship could go horribly wrong.

Mickey lay on his side on the unmade bed, and stared at the mask held tightly in his hand. He should never have taken it. The orders were very clear, and if Marcus found out, the older boy would knock seven bells out of him. And that would be the end of all that lovely cash.

He felt the spongy rubber with his fingers, then smiled possessively at it. He’d just have to make sure that Marcus didn’t find out. He’d hide it, and wear it when he was alone. Like now.

The boy gave a little shiver of excitement. So far, he had not had the opportunity to put it on. Now that his dad was down the Social, and his mum had gone off with some friend, he had the place to himself.

Mickey sat up and, taking the mask with him, walked across to the wardrobe. Inside the door was a long narrow mirror. Mickey looked at himself with interest. He sure didn’t look like the kind of kid who had nearly £200 stuffed in a shoebox beneath his bed. He grinned, then pulled the mask over his thick thatch of corn-coloured hair. He positioned the eye slits, then looked once again in the mirror.

The second he saw himself, he gave an involuntary yelp, and breathed in a great gulp of stale, rubber-smelling air that made him cough.

It was horrible. And exciting, at the same time. Sort of powerful! He felt a cramplike thrill grip his stomach and churn his lunch into mush. Yeah, this was so cool! He stared at himself again and knew it had been worth the risk.

Superintendent Bainbridge was waiting in the CID room when Nikki got back. He seemed to have aged ten years since her trip to Barnby Eaudyke. ‘WPC Collins and I have seen the parents. I don’t have to tell you what kind of state they are in.’

He didn’t. Nikki had dealt with enough frightened and bereaved parents to fill a small theatre. Plus she had had more than her own fair share of heartache with Hannah.

‘Have they thrown any light on what may have happened, sir?’ she asked.

‘Right now, they are too shocked to string a sensible sentence together. WPC Collins and PC Farrow have volunteered to wait with them until the designated Victim Support Liaison Officer gets there.’

‘What about the sea-bank? Where they found the mobile? Has that shown up anything?’