Goosebumps pricked the nape of his neck, as he walked slowly along and stopped at Bruno’s door. He glanced over his shoulder once again, then opened it and peered in.

The room was empty.

Where was Bruno?

He walked further along, stopping every few moments to check behind him. Each time he saw nothing but darkness and shadows. He reached Kaitlynn’s door. Again, after checking behind him, he opened it and shone his torch in.

On an empty room. And empty cot.

Oh Jesus.

It felt like an unseen hand was clamped around his throat, crushing it so tight he could barely breathe.

Where were they?

Then he heard another scream. Faint. Where was it coming from?

‘Royyyyyyyyyyy!’

15

Through his pain, ravenous hunger and desperate thirst, Jack Alexander heard the distinct sound of a woman screaming, somewhere way above him. Too faint for him to make out who it was. Kaitlynn? Oh my God, what were these monsters – whoever they were – doing to her? To all of them? What was this madhouse they’d stumbled into? Who were the crazies here?

Feeling so bloody helpless, he tried desperately to think back, for any clues. All he could recall was arriving at lunchtime in a happy mood. He’d been looking forward to seeing Kaitlynn and to a holiday – thanks to Roy and Cleo’s kindness – in a glorious chateau. At least, it had looked that way in the photos online – but a bit less so in the pelting rain as he had driven up. He was also looking forward to spending a week with Roy Grace, his boss.

Dating the Graces’ nanny had given him this unique chance to spend an entire week on holiday with the Detective Superintendent. He could learn a lot from him, which might help his promotion prospects, he thought – and besides, he really liked him.

He recalled being surprised not to see any other cars parked outside the chateau. The unfriendly woman greeting him at the door, and a mangy dog hauling itself around on its front legs. Then something hit him. The next thing he knew, he was down here.

Nothing made sense. It was as if he was dreaming. But the pain in his head and arms was real enough. Too damned real.

Then he heard the scream again.

His wrists were agony, the bonds cutting in, as sharp as razor blades; every movement gave him burning pain. He sensed blood trickling down his arms. All the same, that scream made him try again to break free. Flexing his toes, he launched himself backwards, his cry of agony stifled by the tape around his mouth as he tried again. Then again.

And finally felt movement. Hope rose.

Whatever he was shackled to was definitely looser than it had been. Again, clenching his teeth against the pain, he sprang backwards as hard as he could. And this time he very definitely felt movement. Something was loosening on the wall.