‘If they’re locals, probably nothing and I’ll have been mistaken. If they are outsiders, a lot. I spent many an idle hour in there when I was a kid, avoiding having to play sport. There’s a lot more to that old mill than meets the eye.’

‘And why do you think Sophie is there?’ Philip asked shakily.

‘Well, if I wanted to conceal someone out here on the fen, I’d choose the mill. Seeing that picture made me remember the old storerooms and the gallery chamber. But it would take an old-timer like me to remember the hidey holes we used to play in.’

‘Forget the crew.’ Will said. ‘We have to get out there, now.’

* * *

Inspector Michael Fenner made them wait until he and Jack Fleet arrived from Grove’s cottage, and then a convoy of cars took off along the lane that circumnavigated Whisper Fen. A wind had got up, blowing away the clouds, and the night sky was a deep indigo blue. Out beyond the marsh could be heard the sound of water rushing on to the boggy fenland shore. The mill was a black hump standing out in stark relief against the moonlit horizon.

The local force, shortly joined by an armed response team, surrounded the ruin. Matt Ballard had asked if there were any older local men among them that he could confer with. Sergeant Charles Palmer was a contemporary of Matt’s, and the two of them worked out how best to search the old building. They knew that the main body of the mill had been scoured, as well as the outbuildings. Two small storerooms had been overlooked, as had the galleried reefing chamber used for servicing and access to the now absent sails.

Staring up at the dark, louring building, Will felt a hand on his arm. He turned to see DCI Charlotte Anders, who had replaced Matt Ballard when he retired. ‘Good to see you here, ma’am.’

Her grip tightened. ‘Hang on in there, Will, we’re all rooting for you. Just because I’ve not been getting my shoes muddy out here doesn’t mean that I haven’t been moving heaven and earth to get her back.’

Will swallowed hard and nodded. Right now, he wished with all his heart that he could turn back the clock and be part of it all again.

Through a loud-hailer, the hollow disembodied voice of Inspector Fenner informed whoever was inside that the mill was surrounded, and they should come out immediately.

An eerie silence ensued. Fenner called again, asking the person, or persons, to identify themselves.

There was no sound but the sighing of the wind. A night bird screeched in the distance.

Several teams of officers were then deployed to search the building. Under instruction from Matt Ballard and Charles Palmer, the men swept into the concealed storerooms. They were empty. This left the chamber, high up in the body of the mill.