‘The parents have been putting them up. They told Ray all about it. I think they said twenty in total.’

‘Do you think it’ll help?’

Kesey shrugged her shoulders. ‘It could do, I suppose. Someone may see it and ring in. It can’t do any harm, that’s for sure. I think I’d be doing the same in their place.’

Janet shivered despite the room’s warmth. ‘Fancy another cuppa?’

‘There’s a bottle of Spanish red in the fridge if you fancy it? A glass or two wouldn’t do us any harm. It may even help me sleep.’

‘And a few crisps?’

Kesey nodded. ‘Yeah, what the hell, why not? Cheese and onion if we’ve got them. I’ll choose a film if you’re up for it?’

‘How about a rom-com? I don’t think I can cope with anything scary. Real life is bad enough to deal with without seeing it on screen as well.’

Kesey picked up the TV remote as Janet headed towards the kitchen, her shapely backside wobbling like a moulded jelly with every step she took. ‘Yeah, you’ve got that right. I’ll find something funny. Something to make us laugh.’

Janet took a corkscrew from a kitchen drawer, speaking loudly enough for Kesey to hear in the adjoining room. ‘I don’t suppose Lottie’s mum is doing much laughing. Life can change in the blink of an eye, and not always for the better.’

Kesey silently observed that Janet had never said a more valid word in her life. ‘How about Notting Hill? I know we’ve seen it twice, but it always makes us smile.’

Janet appeared at the lounge door, the uncorked wine bottle in one hand, the crisp packet and two glasses in the other. ‘Are you changing the subject?’

‘Yeah, I suppose I am. Guilty as charged.’

‘Everything will work out for the best, Laura. You’re a good detective. You’ve just got to find her, that’s all.’

Kesey pressed the play button. ‘Yeah, I know, believe me, I know, but that’s the problem. Where else do I look? I don’t know where to start.’

14

Heath looked around the spacious attic of his recently inherited, large, and detached four-bedroom Victorian home and smiled contentedly. The space was almost perfect. What more could any young girl possibly want in the final weeks of her life? The pink wallpaper, the plastic dolls, the teddy bears, the black metal cage, the stainless steel feeding bowls, and the secured wooden hatch, reached only by a retractable ladder.

It was inspired, a work of undiluted genius. How else could one describe his creation? The space provided security, it provided comfort, and it offered total privacy from a misguided and judgemental world that so misunderstood his needs and inclinations. Just like the priest. That holier-than-thou fool. What the hell was wrong with the man? He got exactly what he deserved. And not before time too. It was such fun to watch him die.

Heath rose to his feet, humming a tune from Carmen as he slowly circled the cage, balding head tilted first to one side and then the other. He looked in at his captive’s sleeping form as he continued his thought process. Yes, the room was perfect. It had all the required elements precisely as he’d designed it before the little brat’s arrival in the darkness of the night. Just as he’d fantasised. Just as he’d dreamed of as he’d watched and he’d planned, biding his time until the moment was exactly right for capture.