No one from the living room. As if an alarm had sounded, and with more haste than anyone had moved when her five-year-old vanished, they jumped into action. By the time Anna got to the front door, five detectives were already in the garden, staring off to the right. Miller ordered them out of sight, quickly. As they retreated into the house, Anna saw her own car bolting down the road. Nick.

She remembered thinking he’d had a phone. Had he got a message, or a call, while in the bathroom? But Nick had claimed his phone was taken by the kidnappers.

She ran into Josie’s room and Bennet appeared just as she knelt by her daughter’s bed and lifted the end of a cable that ran under the frame and into a wall socket.

‘Was there a phone plugged in there? Has Nick got a phone?’

‘Yes. Josie’s. An old one we let her have. For Tetris when she can’t sleep.’ And it had been there earlier, when she’d retrieved Nick’s birthday present to her.

‘Does it have credit, is it active? Was it here this morning?’

‘I don’t know. Probably. Why? Yes, it had a couple of pounds left over from a top-up ages ago.’

He cursed and rushed from the room. She heard him bellow that Nick might have made a phone call. Then he was back, wanting Josie’s number so they could trace the call. Then she heard her father’s voice.

‘I knew it. He’s gone to meet his accomplices. How did you let him out? Didn’t you hear the car start? Ten police officers in this tiny house and he got out.’

Someone urged him to calm down. She heard more footsteps, and then various voices, all urgent. So much noise, adding to the pain. She ran to the door and shoved it shut with a bang.

Accomplices… couldn’t be… could it? But… the Sunderland connection… No, no, Nick must be out searching for Josie. Maybe he had a clue. Maybe he had remembered something, something about the kidnappers who attacked him. Perhaps one had worn an item of clothing with a badge or a logo identifying a place of work. Yes, that was it: over the effects of the drug, Nick now had a clue and was pursuing it alone because the police didn’t like vigilantes. He was doing something proactive to get back his daughter. She cursed herself for doubting him – again.

She pulled out her mobile and dialled Josie’s number from memory. The call went to voicemail and she heard a fumbled message from her daughter, reading from a script that Nick had written. Hearing her little lady’s voice cut her deep. But she didn’t hear Nick’s voice, because he didn’t answer. As she hung up, Jane crashed through the door.