He stepped into an elegant lounge area with two sofas, a coffee table, large TV and a small cocktail bar.

A knot tightened in his throat as three pairs of eyes stared up at him expectantly.

‘I’m Detective Inspector James Walker,’ he said. ‘I arrived a short time ago and I’d like to ask some questions. Would that be all right?’

A couple he assumed to be Rachel’s parents, Fraser and Denise Elliott, sat on one of the sofas and a woman who looked to be in her seventies sat on the other. All three appeared to be totally shell-shocked. There was no sign of Rachel’s sister Libby.

‘Has our daughter been found yet?’ Fraser said, a faint note of optimism in his voice.

James closed the door behind him and shook his head. ‘She’s still unaccounted for but more officers have arrived and the search is being stepped up.’

Removing his overcoat, James asked the elderly lady if she was a family member.

‘That’s how I’ve always regarded myself,’ she answered, with tears in her eyes. ‘I used to be employed as a nanny to Rachel and Libby. My name is Claire, Claire Prescott, and I can’t believe that this is happening.’

‘Would you mind if I sit next to you?’

‘Of course not,’ she said, moving sideways slightly to make more room.

She had grey hair and a stocky frame, and her rheumy eyes nestled in tired folds of pale skin. Beside her, resting against the edge of the sofa, was a walking stick.

‘I’m Fraser and this is my wife, Denise,’ Rachel’s father said, and then nodded towards a closed door. ‘Our other daughter, Libby, is lying on the bed through there. She’s a mess, but I can go and get her. I’m sure she’ll want to hear what you’ve got to say.’

‘There’s no hurry,’ James said as he sat down. ‘It probably makes sense to ask you some questions first.’

Denise was clutching a crumpled hanky in her left hand and grasping her husband’s knee with the other. She had a thin, angular face and pinched features, and James put her in her early sixties.

Her husband was about the same age and his blue suit looked too big on his small frame.

‘If you’ve come to tell us that they’ve found Rachel’s purse and glasses, we already know,’ Denise said. ‘But that was a while ago now. Have there been any further developments?’

‘Not as yet, Mrs Elliott.’ James decided that now wasn’t the time to mention the blood found on the jetty post and boards.

She aimed unblinking eyes at him and he saw tears running down both her cheeks.

‘Please be honest with us, Inspector. Do you think our baby is still alive?’

James cleared his throat before speaking. ‘Given the circumstances, I really can’t be sure, Mrs Elliott. But I must urge you not to lose hope. It’s clear that your daughter was involved in some kind of incident on the jetty and it seems likely that she suffered an injury. But it’s quite possible that it wasn’t serious and she walked out of the hotel grounds afterwards through the rear gate or along the shoreline.’