‘But what do they want? They got the money. What can they want from us, Nick? Is this something to do with the burglary at Father’s garage?’

Nick hadn’t connected that event to this, but it had caused DS Bennet to wonder. And the burglary had occurred not long after Anna vanished. Any other day… Prompted by elevating hope, Nick remembered a line from Anna’s secret message to Jane.

I know what they want. I’m going to get Josie back.

Nick stepped inside carefully. He needed to be quick, because he knew the police were sending someone to fingerprint the busted door. But he also needed Middleton out of the way.

Amongst various items strewn around the garage floor, Nick noticed his lucky milk bottle, broken into a thousand pieces. He didn’t care: it couldn’t be deemed to have any power if Josie and Anna were still missing.

He picked up a piece of the glass. ‘I’m still keeping this. Have you got a small box and a dustpan and brush?’

Middleton had doubted the kidnappers had busted into his garage. The whole street knew he had money and a busy outdoor life but no wife and a daughter who wouldn’t be very good at providing a description: no secret, then, that his property was often unattended. If what the kidnappers wanted was in his garage, they could have broken in anytime. So why take Josie and then come kick in the door anyway? Plus, there was nothing of worth, nor was there anything missing.

Sold. Nick had agreed with the older man’s theory, but asked to see the garage anyway. By the time they’d arrived, he was doubtful. Once inside, and looking at nothing but junk across the floor, he was certain he was on a wild goose chase.

And then he spotted something.

When Middleton was gone, Nick picked up the item that had caught his attention. Right then he knew where this whole mess would end, although he had no idea what treasure could be at the end of this rainbow. Jane was by the door, watching but not. But she heard the slight scrape of something dropping to the floor.

She asked.

He lied: nothing. But then he said, ‘Tell your dad I’m sorry.’

‘What do you mean? Sorry for what?’

‘He said he’s sorry for taking your car,’ Jane said sixty seconds later, when her father was by her side in the driveway and he was staring at a blank space where his forty-grand Jaguar wasn’t.

‘That bastard,’ Middleton hissed. ‘What did he say? Did he find something?’

‘He picked something up.’