It was the early hours of the morning before the police had finally left the Stones’ house. They asked question after question while directing the search for Danny from their living room. Martha desperately craved even the slightest grain of hope to grasp hold of and consequently asked questions the police couldn’t possibly answer. If only there were a set format for such cases, stage one, two, and three – but there isn’t. There are no rules and regulations for those involved in a child’s disappearance to abide by.

The police were still unsure if Danny’s disappearance was a kidnap, an abduction (for reasons his parents couldn’t bear to think about) or a case of a child running away or simply being lost. The latter two, Martha thought, were unlikely. She knew their son and he wouldn’t go wandering off alone. If he were lost anywhere, which also seemed highly unlikely, Danny would use his mobile phone or at least have the sense to seek help from an appropriate source.

Martha and Richard were quizzed relentlessly about their relationship with Danny and his current state of mind. The detective inspector, Alex Radford, who introduced himself as the senior investigating officer, tried to reassure them that most cases of a missing child turned out to be an attempt to run away. So they listened to his questions about family arguments, recent disagreements, and any excessive discipline against which Danny might be rebelling. But they could think of nothing that would make him consider such an action, leaving only two possibilities – kidnap or abduction.

So far, there’d been no demand for a ransom, which made a targeted kidnapping seem unlikely. The thought of this being a random abduction frightened Martha. She didn’t need to ask why children were abducted; she read the papers and watched the television news. Thoughts of child trafficking, sexual abuse and all kinds of violence spun unchecked through Martha’s mind and, she presumed, through Richard’s too – he was a barrister and all too aware of some of the most appalling crimes imaginable. Trying to push such horrors out of her head and concentrate on something constructive was futile.

Where was Danny? Had he slept at all? It was impossible to imagine he would be anything other than afraid. Martha could think of no scenario which would be anything other than traumatic for their son. Even if he was found now, unharmed, it was possible that some psychological damage would already have been suffered. Danny was an eleven-year-old boy, intelligent and sensible, yes, but not in the least equipped to handle this cruel and possibly violent separation from his family. Whatever horrors he was experiencing would almost certainly cause irrevocable damage. When they got him back, Martha thought, she would most certainly wrap him up in cotton wool and never let him out of her sight again.