He turned again, probably just to show the disgust on his face. It only made her laugh. But she got serious. ‘At least you’re not one of those men who thinks a woman’s place is in the kitchen, making the home sweet for the breadwinner. There is that. And consider this. If your daughter hadn’t made that decision, there would be no Josie, would there? No granddaughter. Look at the magnificent gift she gave you. Why do you still treat her like a failure after so many years?’

He was facing away again, his head lowered and his voice was quiet. ‘I don’t even know.’

But there was no time for drama or family guidance. ‘Please, Mr Middleton, let’s get a move on. Come and talk me through these things.’

They didn’t get chance. Her phone rang. Bennet. After the call, she picked up the photo of Nick and his friends. ‘Not Hell’s Angels.’ Reminded of that famous outlaw biker gang, she had misread the word on the T-shirts.

‘I don’t understand,’ Middleton said. He stopped and bent close for a serious look at the photo. ‘Angeles, not Angels. Like Los Angeles?’

‘Like the Spanish name.’ She tapped the Filipino’s grinning face. ‘This man is called Angeles.’

‘So it was his gang, maybe. A play on the Hell’s Angels? What does it prove?’

‘Maybe nothing. But my boss just found out who owns the phone number Nick Carter called before Josie was taken: Fitch Alicante Angeles.’

‘Ketamine overdose, most likely. But he’s going to be okay, dear.’

Anna stared at Miller. ‘What is that? I’ve heard of it. He’ll definitely be okay?’

‘They gave him benzodiazepines, and he responded awesomely. And they got the bubblegum out with mayonnaise. Someone stuck bubblegum in his hair, right on the laceration on his head. Some kind of joke. But he’s doing well, dear. But they want to keep him for a bit. Not too long. Precautions.’

‘It can cause a coma, though, that ketamine stuff,’ a uniformed officer standing at the door said. ‘And he’ll be addled for a bit. My brother’s mate, he once—’

‘Go check the car park for pickpockets,’ Miller said.

When the foul man was gone, Miller apologised and told her Nick would be moving from A&E to a private room in the hospital shortly. And that the uniformed idiot was right about one thing.

‘Your man might be a bit confused for a bit. So we might not get many good answers from him. But he’s agreed to talk to us. We’ll go up shortly. You really should stop clawing at your flesh like that, dear.’

Again, almost of its own accord, her hand had crept to her neck rash, fingers grinding back and forth. She wiped and saw a faint smear of blood on her palm. Or, like before, was it just dirt?