‘That’s a good idea, and thank you, Angelina. I know how hard it must have been for you, but what you’ve told me is very helpful. Shall I call the doctor to come and give you something to help you sleep?’

‘No. The doctor prescribed some Valium when Rory went missing, when . . . when I didn’t think things could get any worse.’ Angelina shrugged sadly. ‘They just did. Could you tell Rory Mummy’s gone for a rest?’

‘Of course. I think he and Issy have become firm friends. I’m sure we can persuade her to stay for a while longer until your mother gets here. Would you like me to call her for you?’

‘No, I’ll do it from my bedroom. It’s going to be a shock for her, too. For everyone . . .’ Angelina walked across to the door of the kitchen and hung on to the handle for support, her face suddenly a mask of fear. ‘What about David? Do you know where he is? What if he does come here?’

‘Please try not to worry, Mrs Millar. You have my word there’ll be an officer sat outside twenty-four hours a day. You and Rory will be perfectly safe, I guarantee it.’

Jazz waited until Angelina had left the kitchen, then switched on her mobile. There was a message from Patrick to say David Millar had finally been picked up in Norwich, drunk, and was being driven back to Foltesham police station to sober up. Patrick was leaving St Stephen’s and would meet her there.

Jazz left the kitchen and climbed the stairs to find Rory and Issy. They were sitting in Rory’s bedroom, Issy trying to steer a car around a race track on Rory’s PlayStation.

‘Glad you’re here. I’ve just gone down a one-way street and run over three mothers with prams. Is she okay?’ Issy mouthed.

‘Not good,’ Jazz mouthed back. ‘Hello, Rory, how are you?’

‘Fine.’ Rory’s attention was focussed on getting Issy’s car back up the one-way street.

‘Rory,’ said Issy, ‘that thing we discussed, about Mr Daneman, I’d like you to tell Jazz here exactly what you told me.’

Rory turned to Issy with anxious eyes. ‘Do I have to? I thought you said it was our secret?’

‘Well, I’d like to let Jazz in on it, too. You see, it might help her solve the case. She won’t tell anyone, will you, Jazz?’

‘Of course not. I’m a policewoman, Rory. It’s my job to keep lots of secrets.’

‘It’s just that . . .’ Rory looked to Issy for reassurance. ‘It’s very embarrassing, you see, and if any of the boys knew at school, then . . .’ He sighed. ‘. . . they’d think I was even weirder than they do already.’

‘I understand, Rory. And I promise I won’t tell your friends,’ Jazz said gently.

‘She won’t, honestly, Rory,’ Issy encouraged. ‘Now, tell Jazz exactly what happened that Friday evening when you went to see Mr Daneman to get some painkillers for your headache.’