‘I’m afraid so.’ She took a card from her pocket. ‘So, if there is anything else you remember will you call me, please?’

He looked from Clare to Chris then back at Clare again. ‘Yeah, of course. But I didn’t see anyone. Honest.’

Clare smiled. ‘That’s fine, Ross.’

The manager was hovering at the door and Ross glanced in his direction.

‘Looks like you’re having a busy day,’ Clare said. ‘We’ll let you get on.’

Ross escaped with evident relief, and they strolled back to the car.

‘What do you reckon?’ Chris said.

‘He seems fine. Let’s check he doesn’t have any previous, though.’

Chris nodded. ‘So, what now?’

‘Let’s go and talk to the security guard. See if we can jog his memory about dark-coloured vans.’

Chapter 7

‘House is in Warrack Street,’ Chris said, turning the car off the main road into a residential area. He pulled up outside a cream-painted two-storey house. A patch of grass to the front was dominated by a large, netted trampoline. The house was in need of a fresh coat of paint but the grass around the trampoline was neatly trimmed and there were window boxes filled with Livingstone daisies, their petals open to the warm summer sun.

‘Oh good,’ Chris said, rolling his eyes at the trampoline. ‘He has kids.’

Clare threw him a scathing look. ‘Stop being such a grump,’ she said. ‘You and Sara might have kids yourselves, one day.’ She saw his expression change and suddenly she was transported back to the time Sara was stabbed trying to stop a kidnapper escaping. She had recovered but had lost the unborn baby she and Chris had just learned they were expecting. ‘Oh Chris, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…’

He smiled. ‘It’s fine, Clare. Don’t worry about it. We probably will, one day. Not for a few years, though.’

Clare patted him on the back as they walked up the path that led to the door. ‘I’m sure you’ll be wonderful parents.’ She moved to ring the bell but the door was opened before she reached it and two small boys tumbled out, running past them to the trampoline. From within the house they could hear a woman’s voice shouting at the boys to take their shoes off. Clare touched the bell lightly and a few seconds later the owner of the voice appeared. She was about thirty, Clare thought, with short blonde hair. She wore a pale denim skirt and a pink top, the sleeves rolled up. There was a dusting of something white on her cheek and Clare thought she must be in the middle of baking.

She looked at Clare and Chris. ‘Yeah?’

Clare showed her warrant card and asked for Mark Mooney.