Bennet said, ‘We’re not certain this man is in charge of your daughter. He’s only nineteen and he’s only ever been done for car theft and some petty troublemaking. We think his role was to secure stolen vehicles for the rest of the team. He might even have no idea what the vehicles were for. He might not have many answers. And you said the caller had the Sunderland accent, which this kid doesn’t.’

‘But Dominic is in Sheffield and you told me the text message Anna got about the Bongo Bingo club was traced to Sheffield. So maybe Anna was right and Josie is still here, and this guy’s watching over her. The calls being made from a vehicle heading south could be a diversion, because they’ll know you can trace the phones.’

‘We don’t know how many people are involved, or if it’s one team, two teams. Josie could be with the south-travellers, or they could be a diversion. I’m sorry, we just don’t know. But this Dominic is a petty lawbreaker and not experienced enough to be left in charge of a kidnap victim. And there’s no guarantee that the south-travellers are headed to Northampton just because one of their team hails from there.’

Nick knew that but had hoped for a more positive answer. So Josie could basically be anywhere. He gave a frustrated laugh and lay on the seat again.

A moment after handing back Bennet’s mobile, it rang.

‘Mitigating circumstances, or whatever the lawyers call it,’ Nick said. ‘What’s the least jail time you get for revenge killings? What would happen if I tied them all up in a line and gave Josie a gun and a pound for every decent headshot?’

No answer. Nick raised his head to see the detective with his phone clamped to his ear. Just listening. A few moments later, he hung up and cursed. He pulled the car into the kerb and gave Nick a long glare, clearly reading him.

‘What’s going on?’

‘What is going on, Nick? Where’s your wife gone?’

‘Gone? What do you mean?’

‘Right around the time you were on the train, she went across the road to see a neighbour. He says she went to pick beetroot in the backyard. My detective just went to get her back. The beetroot’s there. She isn’t. Where is she?’

Nick sat up. ‘What? She’s vanished? Why did you people let her go out? She’s not herself. Jesus Christ. Get driving. Get me home.’

Bennet’s eyes softened, as if his suspicious tone had been an act designed to make criminals crumble during interview. He got the car moving. ‘We’ll find her. She seemed to just need to get a break from the house. Nobody knew this was going to happen. Do you have any idea where she would go? Or why?’