Scale signaled to the two figures flanking the black vehicle. Immediately, Angelo and Vincent Spaghetti swooped down the drive, springing catlike through the kitchen door. Vincent held a muzzle and a heavy chain in his gloved hands; Angelo wielded a stick that looked like an electric cattle prod, the ones slaughterers use in an abattoir. They stood, their bodies taking up most of the kitchen, apparently awaiting further instructions from their vile master.

“Search the grounds,” Scale ordered.

Mick stepped forward. “There’s no need for this,” he said, pressing his face as close as he could bear to Scale’s. “I won’t have my grandson upset. Don’t you dare take another step without a warrant.”

Through the lenses of his dark glasses, Scale’s eyes flashed. “I think you will find my authority overrides any warrant,” he said, producing a piece of paper. He thrust it roughly at Sergeant Beechgood, who studied the document intently. After a few seconds, Bill Beechgood looked up. Apple knew by the expression on his face that the news was not good.

“I’m really sorry, Mick, but seems he’s right,” he said with regret. “This … er … gentleman has the right to remove the animal under the Dangerous Wild Animals Act of 1976.”

Apple shook her head. Whatever Woody was, he was not a killer. Of this she was certain. Scale made a noise in the back of his throat that sounded like a strangled howl of triumph, and nodded to the two suits. There was a scuffle as Mick tried to stop them from gaining access to the back garden, but they were much bigger than him; he didn’t stand a chance.

Scale followed his heavies into the garden. It was deserted. Apple’s hammock swung in the gentle breeze, the table and chairs set for a late barbecue Mick had planned. No Woody, no Nat.

“WHERE ARE THEY?” Scale screamed. Everyone except the two suits shrank back, shocked. Scale paced up and down Apple’s garden, apoplectic with rage, kicking the outdoor furniture and shouting instructions to his two besuited accomplices. Sergeant Beechgood and his young companion watched in disbelief.

Apple and Jude exchanged nervous glances. Indeed, where were they?

Scale ordered the house to be searched. When it proved to be as empty as the garden, Scale whirled to face Apple, who was watching calmly.

“You!” He pushed his face close to hers. “Where have you hidden them?”

Apple smiled. “It’s time you got what you came for. I think you will find it in the shed.”

Scale glanced at Apple uncertainly. He knew they had already searched the shed, which was filled with human junk: old bicycles, congealed paint, and other such rubbish. This fat woman was playing with him, but at this point he had nothing to lose.