“Edwin?” Victoria replied. “I doubt that very much.”

“He’s not here now,” Milton said. “And she’s just been taken away by the police.”

“I can’t see him doing that. I know him. He can be an arse, but he’s not a bad guy.”

“They found her somehow,” Milton said. “Maybe it was the nurse. Or someone at the hotel. It doesn’t really matter.”

“What can I do?”

“I need someone with local knowledge.”

“Where on Wanagiri have they taken her? The police station?”

“Yes,” Milton said.

There was a silence that lasted for a few seconds while Victoria thought. “I know it. There’s a motorcycle shop about a hundred metres to the north of the police station. You can’t miss it. Just past it is a lay-by. Meet me there. I’ll head out now.”

Milton thanked her, inserted the key into the ignition of the scooter and started the engine. A light rain started to fall. He pushed the scooter off its stand as a jagged flash of lightning split the sky on the horizon. He heard the boom of thunder as he pulled away from the kerb.

33

Katsuro had been outside the police station at Wanagiri for ten minutes. He had parked on the other side of the road from the building, the car partially hidden behind a stand of lontar palm. It had been a frustrating evening. He had received Sakura’s text, telling him that she was at a hotel in Kuta. He had hurried to the car and made his way across the island, arriving at the hotel only to see a crowd of people outside the doors and the policemen bringing her out.

They had driven her away; Katsuro had followed.

The police cruisers had parked at the front of the building, next to a rank of motorcycles that single officers would use to get around the island. Katsuro peered at the station through the rain that was hammering against the windshield of his car. The building was behind a substantial cream-coloured wall, with access in and out through a gate. The building itself was reasonably large and constructed in the local style: yellow-painted walls and a steeply sloping red tile roof. The Indonesian flag hung limply from a flagpole, the pennant drenched by the rain. Katsuro had examined the satellite image on his phone and saw that there were another two buildings in the complex, with a small courtyard laid out between them.

Sakura was in there somewhere.