Jazz wandered around, noting how pristine everything was.

It resembled a stage set; she could still smell new paint. There were carefully arranged photographs of the angelic Rory with his mother, but none, she noted, of his father.

Of course, if there was a new boyfriend on the scene, that must make life difficult.

She wondered how children of divorce coped when the photographs of one of their parents were removed from display and replaced with another, unloved and unknown face.

Jazz perched on the edge of one of the sofas, as Julian led Angelina into the room.

‘Hello, Mrs Millar.’

Even exhausted, Angelina looked immaculate. Jazz thought what a perfect couple the two of them made.

‘Is there any news?’ Angelina’s expression was held between dread of bad news and hope of good. Jazz had seen it so many times before.

‘Not at present, no.’

‘Oh.’ Angelina’s shoulders slumped, and she sat down next to Julian. He held her hand rather stiffly.

‘I presume you haven’t heard anything from either Rory or your husband?’

‘No, nothing. Not a word. I . . .’ Angelina bit her lip to stop herself crying. ‘I’ve left so many messages on David’s mobile, but he hasn’t replied.’

‘We’re going to put a device on both your mobile and your home line, Mrs Millar. If it rings and it is your husband, then we need you to try and keep him talking. Then we can try and get a location through his phone.’

Angelina shook her head. ‘He won’t call, I know he won’t. He’s got Rory and he won’t want to give him back.’

‘Inspector Hunter, what are your boys doing about the situation at present?’ Julian asked brusquely.

‘We’ve put both of them on our missing person’s file and the photographs Mrs Millar gave us have been sent out to every force in the country.’

‘Well, that will really help.’ Julian sniffed. ‘For God’s sake, hundreds of people go missing every day and the computers are swamped with pictures of missing persons. But we’re talking abduction here, by a father who is mentally unstable and physically aggressive. We have no idea what he could do to that boy.’ Julian squeezed Angelina’s hand. ‘Sorry, darling, but it has to be said.’

Jazz ignored Julian and turned her gaze to Angelina. ‘Do you think your ex-husband is an aggressive man, capable of harming Rory?’

She looked at Jazz through agonised eyes. ‘No,’ she said finally. ‘David may have a drink problem, but he adores his son, almost to the point of obsession.’

‘You think he is obsessed with Rory?’ Jazz pressed.

‘No, sorry, I mean . . . he loves Rory to bits, like any normal father, and when we separated, it must have been very hard for him. It’s my fault really. I should have realised how desperate he was.’

‘Mrs Millar, did you know anything about Rory being bullied at school?’

Angelina looked up with her china-blue eyes. ‘No, nothing. At least, Rory didn’t say anything to me.’