Fry didn’t like being asked to guess. Someone who asked you to guess expected you to be wrong, and she usually was. But as she remembered the photo of Iliev’s red Ford Escort with its shattered back window and BG plates, Fry thought she heard distant screams, and the voices of children. And she realized she didn’t have to guess. ‘An orphanage,’ she said.

‘You are almost correct. Iliev and Yotova were employed by an official organization which places children in state orphanages.’

‘So they had a lot of power in deciding the fate of those children?’

‘Da, razbira se.’

‘And perhaps they were in a position to falsify paperwork, remove records, take illegal payments –’

Kotsev threw out an arm dramatically. ‘Where money is involved, someone will become corrupt. But perhaps they thought they were doing good work too.’

‘Doing good? How?’

‘At one time, our Bulgarian orphanages were not very pleasant places to be. Some children stayed in them for many years, without ever finding homes. Who can say whether it might not have been better to find a child a home, even if illegally?’

‘Somehow, Georgi, I suspect these people aren’t too scrupulous about checking where children are going to end up.’

He bowed his head slightly. ‘Perhaps you’re right. It’s possible some of those orphans went to a bad fate.’

‘Why hasn’t this trade been exposed?’

‘Well, there are political ramifications . . .’

‘Oh, the European Union,’ said Fry. The phrase had begun to sound like the kiss of death to rationality.

‘Yes, indeed.’

‘I suppose what it boils down to is that the Bulgarian authorities wouldn’t want evidence of large-scale baby smuggling to come to light right now.’

‘Especially if other EU member states are involved. It would cause quite a scandal. Worse, it would give ammunition to those who do not want Bulgaria to join the EU.’

Fry felt suddenly exhausted. No matter how hard you tried to achieve some kind of justice, there were occasions when it was obvious you were wasting your time. The realities lined up against you were insurmountable. And this was the way it always would be. Human nature would never change.

‘So we’re looking at a baby selling ring, with at least four people involved. Is that right? The two people killed in the shooting in Pleven, plus Rose Shepherd and Simon Nichols. Or, rather, Rosica Savova and Simcho Nikolov. And what about the Zhivko brothers?’

‘There are connections between them, certainly.’

‘Were Dimitar Iliev and Piya Yotova wealthy?’

‘No, not all. They had an ordinary home in an apartment block in Pleven. They drove an aged Ford Escort, as you saw. They had no money hidden away, that we could find.’

‘And Nikolov was pretty much destitute.’ Fry thought of the electronic gates guarding Bain House in Foxlow. ‘So it appears that Savova made all the money from the enterprise.’

‘Da. It would seem so.’