‘Prezent,’ Gabriela says again. ‘Telefon, prezent. Od mojego tata.’

It doesn’t take much to work out that her telephone was a gift from her father, and Leon feels desperately sorry for her. He observes her pale tear-stained cheeks, the black smudges of make-up under her eyes. Her black nail varnish is chipped on her short nails. Heavy silver rings clutter her fingers. Faith claimed earlier that Gabriela looked too young to be serving behind the bar, but Leon doesn’t see that. Her Goth-like image could be deceiving. Leon’s sure this woman is in her mid-twenties. She’s one of those people who will be asked for her ID in an off-licence way into her forties.

‘Prezent,’ Gabriela repeats, her voice less frantic than earlier. ‘Telefon, prezent. Od mojego tata.’

‘We will find it, love,’ Christine says, as though Gabriela understands what she’s saying. ‘I promise.’

‘Do you think there’s any chance Dane or Savannah might have a phone?’ Desperation drips from Alice’s voice, as her gaze drifts towards the bar doors.

Leon looks at Christine, who didn’t seem to hear what Alice said, too wrapped up in caring for Gabriela, and then back to Alice. He rises, rubs his neck. ‘Which room are Dane and Savannah Winslow staying in?’

Christine looks up. ‘Umm, number 5, I think.’

‘Well, we need to ask them if they’ve got a phone. And if they have, we should call the police. All these mobiles going missing, the cut phone wire, Alice’s dress on the rocks—’

‘I agree.’ Alice rises, and Lori and Christine get to their feet too.

‘Not sure it needs four of us,’ Christine says looking from Alice to Lori. When they don’t sit down she glances at Gabriela. ‘Will you be OK, love? We’re just popping upstairs.’

‘I’ll take care of her,’ Faith says, putting her arm around Gabriela’s shoulder as they walk away.

Leon glances back as Gabriela shuffles away from Faith, looking helpless, her arms knotted across her slim body, as though holding herself together.

On their way past reception, Christine grabs the spare key to number 5. ‘Just in case,’ she says, jiggling it in her hand.

‘In case what?’ Alice furrows her forehead, but Christine doesn’t answer, just waltzes up the stairs at speed.

A ‘do not disturb’ sign hangs on the handle of number 5. Christine bangs on the door three times. ‘Dane? Savannah?’ she calls through the wooden panelling. ‘Are you in there?’

‘They must be,’ Alice says. ‘I haven’t seen them around the hotel since before the tour.’

‘Dane, Savannah, we need to know if you’ve got a phone we can borrow.’ Christine shoves the key in the lock, turns it. ‘Hello,’ she says edging the door open. ‘Dane? Savannah?’

Christine steps into the room and flicks on the light, Leon follows close behind.