‘It’s a long story,’ Lindsey said. ‘And I can tell you, if you want. But it’s over now.’

‘Maybe we’ll come back to it,’ Wynne said. ‘Perhaps we can move to more recent events.’

‘Of course.’

‘You said your husband is away?’

‘North Sea. He works in the oil industry.’

‘When did he leave?’

‘Last Wednesday.’

Wynne glanced at Dudek. He raised an eyebrow. He was thinking the same as she was. A husband conveniently absent. A husband who might have something against the man his wife had once loved.

‘Who is your husband’s employer?’ Wynne asked.

Lindsey Meyer gave her a name. She noted it down. It would be easy enough to check his alibi.

‘Could you tell us where you were on Saturday evening?’ Wynne said.

‘I could. I was working. I did the nightshift,’ Lindsey said.

‘Where was your son?’ Dudek asked.

‘You think I left him here alone? He was with my mum, Detective Sergeant. You can ask her. And you can ask the hospital – it’s Warrington General – whether I’m telling the truth.’

‘We’ll check,’ she said. ‘That’s all for now. We’ll be in touch if we have more questions.’

‘Look,’ Lindsey said. ‘I can see how you might think I have something against Annabelle Westbrook, and I can’t tell you that we’re ever going to be friends. But that was all a long time ago. I’m married, I have a job and a family. I’m happy, which has not always been the case for me. And I wouldn’t do anything to risk that. I had nothing to do with this. Nothing at all.’

Annabelle

1

The door opened.

The kidnapper – still in dark jeans and a hoodie – came in and stood six inches inside the room. The door clicked shut.

There was no response.

‘Are you just going to stand there?’ she said. ‘Or do something?’

Again, there was no response.

‘At least show me your face,’ she said. ‘You’ll have to, eventually.’

The figure shrugged, then lifted the hood slowly.

She did not understand what she was seeing. It made no sense. More than that – it was impossible.

‘It’s you?’ she said. ‘Guy? But—’ she knew this was not the most profound question, but it was what she thought of – ‘you were in Brighton, weren’t you?’

‘I made that up,’ he said. ‘I take it you weren’t expecting me?’

He sounded genuinely interested, as though he’d thought she might be, but he was the last person she had expected to see. She had assumed it was a crazy fan or someone from her distant past. But Guy? The thought had never crossed her mind.

And, in the back of her mind, she wondered if maybe this made it better? It was Guy, after all, and not some monster.

‘No,’ she said. ‘I wasn’t expecting you.’