Megan’s brow furrowed. ‘It’s a domestic issue.’

‘I need a little more than that.’

Megan responded in a whisper, her nose almost touching the glass. ‘My ex-husband, he’s… he’s abducted our daughter. I’ve got legal custody. He doesn’t have the right to take her. I don’t think he’d hurt her, not deliberately, not physically, but I can’t be entirely sure. He was drunk when he took her. I need her found, and quickly. I feel sure you understand.’

Sandra nodded. ‘You’re in luck. I saw DI Kesey a little earlier. She’s not usually in on a Saturday.’ Sandra picked up the phone. ‘Give me a second. I’ll try her office number.’

Megan forced a brittle smile. ‘That’s appreciated, thank you.’

Sandra dialled and waited.

‘Hello, ma’am, it’s Sandra on the front desk. I’ve got Megan Weller here with me, the solicitor, she says her ex has abducted their daughter. She’s got custody; the father was drunk. She’s concerned as to the girl’s safety.’

Kesey’s tone was urgent. ‘When exactly did he take her?’

‘Give me a second, ma’am.’

Sandra lowered the phone, turning her attention to Megan, who was blowing out a series of short breaths as she stood gripping the counter’s edge. ‘When did the alleged abduction take place?’

Megan tensed at the use of the word ‘alleged’, but she decided to let it go. Maybe she was being oversensitive. There was little point in delaying matters for the sake of argument. ‘He broke into my house sometime in the early hours of this morning and took Lottie from my bed when I was sleeping right there next to her. She’s only five years old. The man’s gone far too far this time. I don’t know what the hell he was thinking. I can only put it down to the drink.’

Sandra provided the detective with the required information, adding the child’s age, rushing her words, keen to convey efficiency.

‘Okay, thank you, Sandra, that’s helpful. Are any of the interview rooms free?’

‘Rooms one and three.’

‘Okay, put Ms Weller in room three, offer her a hot drink, and tell her I’ll be with her in two minutes. If she thinks she’s having a bad day, it’s about to get worse.’

6

Detective Inspector Laura Kesey sat opposite Megan, separated only by a small rectangular table, looking across at her with obvious concern. When Kesey spoke, it was in nasal Brummie tones that some Welsh locals found challenging to decipher. ‘So, let me see if I’ve got this right? You got into bed with your daughter Lottie in a bedroom at the back of your house in Picton Street shortly after the officers left your address, yeah?’

Megan was quick to respond. ‘Yes, as I said. That’s exactly what happened. I had a quick cup of tea, rang my mother, and then went back to bed. Lottie was already fast asleep when I climbed in next to her.’ Megan dropped her head, looking away. ‘I hate to admit this, but I’d taken a sleeping tablet. If I hadn’t, well, you know what I’m about to say, I’d have woken. I’d have heard him; I’d have stopped him, simple as. We wouldn’t be here talking now.’