‘Put that down right now,’ the DS ordered. His stance changed slightly, as if readying for an attack. Nick tossed the knife into the sink and the DS added: ‘Protocol, remember? Imagine if a week from now you admitted Josie was under the floorboards and that we didn’t even search the house. Remember also that I said we’re not using the dog. And what’s coming are things you need to be clear-headed for. Step away from that sink, please.’

Nick spat the alcohol into the sink. ‘Gotcha. A in that police ABC mantra, eh? A: accept nothing. Your wife must find life one long party.’

He almost upended the bottle’s contents down the plughole, too, but stopped himself. He put the top back on. And backed out of arm’s reach of the whiskey-soaked weapon.

‘It’s for celebrating good news, anyway,’ he said, meaning the whiskey. Meaning he still might have the chance to celebrate.

‘Why was the bottle hidden? Do you have a drink problem you’re hiding from your wife?’

‘What are you, a detective or something?’

Bennet’s phone beeped the arrival of a text message. He quickly read it and lost the device. ‘Then hopefully we can all have a good news nip very soon,’ he said. ‘Now, can we go into your daughter’s room, and you can run me through your story again.’

‘Looking for holes in it?’ Nick said as he slapped the bottle down on the worktop and slid it away.

‘I’ll understand the story better if you tell it here at the scene. Maybe it’ll help your memory, too.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean? You think I gave you a line? Ah, wait. C: challenge everything.’

‘Maybe you missed some things. Your head is clearer now.’

‘Like what?’

‘Only you could know that. Maybe something that happened in the long black zone in your head between when you were knocked out and woke up in a garage.’

The DS’s glare confirmed it: the police knew that Nick had fudged his tale a little. He did remember something from that black zone. Unable to meet the police officer’s gaze, he looked at a framed picture above the microwave oven: a quote, from author Josh Jameson, about those moments in life when one needed to turn the page rather than close the book. Nick felt this book trying to close itself.

In Josie’s room, he sat against the wall facing the bed and Bennet sat on the mattress. Nick glanced down, under the bed, then away.

‘Just before we do the story, Nick, let’s see if your long-term memory is better. Enemies.’

‘You asked me that in the car. No enemies.’

‘The people who took your daughter away from you said you had to pay your dues. You. Sounds personal. Doesn’t have to be someone you know. Someone you annoyed. Cut anyone up on the road recently?’