We drive at breakneck speed along the narrow roads, the wind whistling through the open windows. I feel sick, but I’m not sure if it’s fear of what we’ll find in the hospital, or being hurled round tight bends in the dark. I clutch my phone in one sweating palm, but I decide not to call Amy and Matt until I’ve seen who it is. I don’t want to worry them even more.

When we reach the town, we pass the supermarket and turn down a small road leading away from the beach and its empty, litter-strewn promenade, to what looks like the start of an industrial estate. Martelli slams on the brakes, leaving the Punto at an angle outside the front of a low, whitewashed building with iron grilles across the windows. It’s hardly what I’d call a hospital, more like a glorified doctor’s surgery. I follow him in. The waiting room is crowded with men who look as if they’ve had too much to drink and got into scraps, scrapes or fallen down a flight of steps. Martelli speaks to a nurse at the reception desk and then gestures to me to follow him. We head down a short corridor and into a small ward on the right-hand side, with a single occupant. She’s lying on her back and she’s very still. With her dark hair spread across the crisp white sheets, she makes me think of Sleeping Beauty.

And then my stomach drops away with a sickening jolt.

It’s Bethany.

I stumble towards her, but stop short. There’s a bandage round her head; one side of her face is swollen and purple.

‘It is your sister, Betany?’ Martelli can’t pronounce the ‘th’ in her name.

‘Yes.’

Martelli speaks to a male nurse, who unhooks a clipboard with notes that’s attached to the end of the bed. He says something to the officer, gesticulating expansively.

I call Amy. Her voice is thick, furred with sleep.

‘Nick? Where are you?’

‘I’m in the hospital with Agente Martelli. Bethany is here. She’s – she’s unconscious.’

I wait for the news to sink in. She’ll be thinking this is my fault, and she’d be right. If I hadn’t lost my temper…

‘Oh my God, oh my God. What’s happened? Is she okay?’

‘I don’t know. I’ll call you as soon as I know more.’

I should reassure her, or something, but I can’t think of what to say. I mean, Martelli said she’s in a critical condition, she’s unconscious. But telling Amy that won’t help.

‘I’ll call you,’ I repeat and hang up.