However now, what with recent developments, she had to reconsider her father’s theory that Jennifer had been acquainted with her abductor. Her father believed that Jennifer had been groomed by him over the period of time leading up to her abduction. On that fateful day, it could have been that she’d actually arranged to meet him at his suggestion, or possibly she’d innocently revealed details of her movements to him so all he’d had to do was lie in wait for her. Whichever way it had happened, he must have been an extremely crafty and duplicitous character to have managed to obscure his real existence from everyone but her; and the way he’d done this, it seemed, was to have posed as an ‘invisible friend’ called Mister Snigiss.

Bailey tried to think how Jennifer might have come into contact with him. Had he been one of the neighbours? A teacher at school perhaps? Or maybe a relative of one of her friends who she’d encountered at a party or barbecue or something like that – a cousin or uncle, or perhaps an older brother? The possibilities revolved through Bailey’s mind, but none of them were anything more than pure speculation. And what was the likelihood of being able to track down those people today, over twenty-four years later, to see if any of them bore the name Snigiss?

But then, seeing as the name Snigiss hadn’t emerged in any of the material from the case files, it seemed very possible, as her father had suggested, that his real name wasn’t Mister Snigiss at all. But that of course made it all the more difficult to discern his true identity.

Though if his real name wasn’t Mister Snigiss and he’d just made up that name in order to deceive an eight-year-old child, why was he still calling himself Mister Snigiss all these years later? Did he just like that name or was it actually in fact his real name?

Bailey felt like she was going in circles. She felt like her brain was going to explode. She clenched her fists in frustration. At the very least it looked like these case files weren’t going to yield anything fruitful, just like the visit to Jennifer’s bedroom.

Scratching her head, Bailey tried to think of what other avenues she could pursue in her quest to track down the infuriatingly elusive Mister Snigiss…

She jumped as her undercover phone rang, trilling loudly in the oppressive silence of the small room. Taking it from her pocket, she looked at its small screen.

It was Rick.

She took the call.

‘Hello, Bailey,’ he rasped in his rough voice. ‘Are you up for a fight?’

34

The air was thick with testosterone as the mostly male crowd roared aggressively, cheering on one or other of the two heavily muscled men pummelling each other in the boxing ring.

The arena was located in East London and the Molloys owned a private box which offered a generous panoramic view of the proceedings. Bailey was tucked between Rick on her right and Shane on her left; on the other side of Shane, Nancy was sitting with Ettie the Pomeranian on her lap, chatting to Stephen.