Bank managers love their wealthy clients and this one had agreed to personally deliver Middleton £50,000. That amount, in tightly wrapped £20 notes, neatly fitted into an old shoebox of Nick’s, but it was brought to the house in a large briefcase and Middleton met his old friend on the street to take it. The neighbours would see a businessman collecting his forgotten bag; a scout amongst them, or somehow watching from afar, would know the Carters were planning to pay the ransom.

Middleton sat on the settee and started to transfer the cash into the shoebox. Slowly, somewhat reluctantly, as if tossing money on to a fire. Most were entranced by the show, but not the Carters. Nick wasn’t there and Anna felt only frustration in with all that despair and sadness.

‘How many people have died across the world, even just today, for this stuff?’

‘Just remember it does some good in the world, too,’ Bennet said.

‘If we’d had this earlier, they wouldn’t have needed to take Josie,’ she said, and turned, and left the room. What she’d said made no sense, she knew, because the truth was if they’d had money aplenty, Josie might have been taken earlier, and the threat of repeat would hang over them indelibly.

Middleton watched his daughter leave, and while his eyes were still on the doorway Nick appeared.

‘The magic potion, eh?’

Someone actually stepped into both men’s line of sight, perhaps aware of what was coming. But he couldn’t block sound.

‘Fifty thousand is a lot, Nick,’ Middleton said. ‘With that you could rent a decent place of your own.’

‘You’re an idiot. I’ll be around for ever.’

‘Calm it down, guys,’ the detective between them said.

‘Fifty thousand, Nick. If you could keep it and give up Josie, which would it be?’ Middleton said. His tone was sweet, like that of a guy just curious, if a little out of line. Enough so that the detectives in the room missed the underlying message.

But not Nick. He got Middleton’s message loud and clear.

His response was hawked over his shoulder as he turned to leave.

‘I’d burn that up and you with it if it would get my little girl back right now.’

Anna found him in the cellar, where there was a pull-up bar, and he was working himself hard, as he sometimes did when upset or stressed. The old hanging bulb was off, probably so he couldn’t be distracted. In the light from the kitchen, he wasn’t much more than a silhouette. She was still a little angry with him for the debacle with the child molester because it had injected hope now eroded, and she wanted to make him promise not to take any sort of wild action again.