It was a low-level night vision, taken from a house on their side of the road, six or seven down, found during a neighbourhood canvass that had started once the police knew that Nick hadn’t absconded with his own daughter. The camera was aimed to the right in order to cover the parking area, and the Carter backyard was visible on the right side of the screen. Grainy and grey, but a portion of the image was lit by the light from the living room; although this area was so bright because of the night vision that it was washed out. Like a glowing pool of lava. The road and parking area resembled a lollipop leaning back and to the right.

A van entered stage left, slid slowly up the road and turned in the parking area. It came back and parked outside the back gate. All the lights were off. Three dark shapes exited, but one black mass remained behind the steering wheel. One climbed the high gate and unlocked it for the others. In they slinked, moving fast and careful, like ninjas.

When the black shapes entered the glowing pool, they became fuzzy and lost contours, like objects in a heat shimmer. The patio door wasn’t visible at this angle, but Nick realised he must have opened it right then, because the three shapes darted aside. He saw a fourth shimmering form enter the scene, stage right. Himself. Phone call to his friend done, he had decided to step out for a cigarette. Seeing this, he realised he hadn’t craved one since. Only alcohol.

Here, in his still-hazy memory, was where he froze in fear and got struck to the ground. But that wasn’t what he saw now. His little dark shape floated out, into the garden and towards the three. It merged with one, then veered to the right, following a second. The first was down on the ground. Shocked, he realised he had taken out one of the kidnappers.

‘If I’d had a gun…’

But he didn’t fare so well with number two. He thought he saw an arm come up, curling defensively across the figure’s head, as if to protect itself from his blow. But then the other arm came up, out towards him. It didn’t seem to strike him, too far away, short by a good two feet, yet down he went, as if a magic sleep spell had been cast. The black shape then moved forward, and hovered over him, bending. He thought he could see his head on the doorstep. This, he knew, would be when a syringe of ketamine got a cameo and sportsmanship left the production.

Then he saw the third figure slip out of the right side of the screen. Into the house, through the door he had opened for them. Nice and easy. Nice’s little dark form didn’t move.