Will and Philip went and looked over his shoulder.

‘That lamp, see? It’s ornate, rather beautiful. What’s it doing in such a filthy setting?’

They squinted, and could just make out the dim outline of part of an old oil lamp that had fallen on its side on the dirty floor of the cellar.

‘That’s it!’ Matt’s sudden exclamation made them all jump. ‘That lamp belonged to Isaac Berridge. It has a particular design on the stand. Look, an anchor with plaited ropes extending down to the base.’ He stared at each of them. ‘But it wasn’t in the old cottage tonight. It was definitely not there. I’d have noticed it. It always sat on the kitchen windowsill. It was a very fine lamp for a poor fen man. My grandmother said he had been given it by a “toff” in exchange for six bottles of his homemade tonic.’

‘So, how on earth could Kate have painted it?’ asked Will.

‘I have no idea,’ breathed Matt.

Will said, ‘Matt, go and look at the other pictures again, there may be something else.’

As his friend turned to go, Philip held up his hand. ‘Wait. Will, didn’t you say that the doctor was sending you a copy of a new painting?’

They all hurried into the hall and Will sat at his PC. After waiting a few minutes for the image to download, they were gazing at Kate’s latest work.

It was simply a dark room, but it seethed with menace. There was nothing obviously gruesome to be seen — no severed limbs, no decomposing body. But you knew that the huddled shape on the filthy floor was a child. That the huge shadow lurking just behind the half-open door was full of malice and evil intent. You could smell the fear.

Matt gripped Will’s arm. Without a word, he pulled him back into the lounge and walked across to where his and Liz’s “welcome to your new home” gift hung in pride of place above the fireplace.

‘Dying Light. I could be wrong, Will, but I think I know where Sophie is.’

They stared at the picture of the cottage and the ancient mill.

‘The mill?’ asked Will. ‘But they searched there, Matt. I heard the crew report in. They said it was dangerous, but they had managed to check it out thoroughly.’

‘Were they locals or men drafted in from other areas?’ asked Matt urgently.

‘No idea. I’ll ask. No, better still, I’ll see if I can find them, and you can talk to them yourself. Matt, what do you know about that old derelict mill that they don’t?’