Anna ignored the remark. She walked through the other door in the kitchen. ‘This is Josie’s room.’

As soon as Adams had had a look at the wet floor and shut window in there, he turned to head out of the room. Lowth handed him the address book and got in front of the doorway, as if to prevent Anna from following him. She asked for the photo album. It was on a little shelf above the bed. Anna handed it to the police officer. She heard a loud click and knew that Adams had returned to the trapdoor. She realised why.

‘He’s going into the attic. My god, do you think my husband and daughter are hiding? It locks from the outside. Why on earth—’

‘We have to check the whole house, Mrs Carter. I’m sorry. We have to do that. We’re not assuming anything.’ Her eyes cast around. ‘This is a very bare room.’

Despite the officer’s claim, Anna sensed a direct assumption. But she understood why. This was a tiny place that Anna had planned for a washing machine and tumble drier, since it was a kitchen annex, but Josie had wanted it as her bedroom. Hardly five feet wide, laminate wood floor, no hallway access, and bare but smooth plaster walls. Not a single toy or poster. The cheap four-foot bed was the only indication that a child slept here. A cold room, but, again, how Josie wanted it. Visitors had made the same remark, the same assumption, the officer just had, and Anna gave the police officer the same answer as always.

‘Josie has trouble sleeping when her mind races. She can’t sleep with toys and things around. She’s got a playroom. What she wants here is “Just a sleepy place”. It doesn’t mean we don’t care.’

Lowth nodded with a reassuring smile. ‘My boy’s the opposite. He needs a mountain of toys on his bed or he won’t sleep. Why don’t you show me the photos? And talk me through the events of this evening, leading up to when you discovered your husband and daughter missing.’