‘Indeed. But other than that, it looks like another dead end. Even if Elspeth’s husband had found out about it, his alibi for the period when she was kidnapped was watertight, and his distress seems genuine. He works abroad regularly, so I suppose it wasn’t difficult to cover up the affair. They have a nanny for the children. Elspeth would have had a fair amount of freedom.’

‘Everything about Angela’s murder revolved around her being the perfect wife and mother. Superficially, Elspeth seems the same. Roughly the same age, two kids, happy marriage. If we’re formulating a profile of a man who either wants that woman for himself, or alternatively who wants to desecrate a woman with those attributes, then he can’t possibly know about Nick Bowlzer.’

Baarda stood up. ‘I need to decide how much of this I reveal to Elspeth’s husband.’

‘None,’ Connie said. ‘Not one word.’

‘Do you not think he has a right to know? It might be relevant.’

‘It might be, but I seriously doubt it. Nick Bowlzer is an idiot, and the female race deserves better than men like that, but he didn’t hurt Elspeth. He’s too lazy. If you tell Elspeth’s husband, there’s every chance he’ll tell his parents, or a friend, or his lawyer, the list is endless. And if it leaks, if the press gets hold of it, the only thing keeping Elspeth alive – this idealistic opinion her kidnapper has of her – is dead in the water. I suspect that’s how we’d find her, too.’

Chapter Eighteen

Blood dripped into the carpet, not that Meggy and Elspeth cared about the state of the furnishings. Their fingers, however, were raw. They’d taken a break and made an attempt to push the dangling light back into the ceiling cavity, wrapping the loose wires around a wooden spoon from the kitchen to take up the slack, and slotting that into the plasterboard hole. The result was messy and wouldn’t stand even the most cursory of inspections, but it was better than it had been.

Having cleared up the pile of plasterboard dust, and eaten some cheese and softening crackers, they went back to ripping up the carpet. No loose boards so far, and they had to shift the furniture again to give them more to play with. But now there was hope. A cracked board missing a sliver of wood along its side was wide enough for Elspeth to slip her fingers into and pull. Not in their current state, though. They were damaged enough already. One large splinter followed by an infection with no access to first aid or antibiotics and there would be more than just Fergus to worry about.

Using two clean tea towels from the kitchen, Meggy wrapped one each, tenderly, around Elspeth’s hands, tucking in the end above her wrists.