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That was complete rubbish, of course. Even Reynolds knew that. Teenagers were a selfish bunch and unlikely to be anchored by a childhood toy if they had a boyfriend waiting in the wings.

Barbara’s ex-husband turned to give her a comforting hug and Rachel reached out and stroked the other woman’s shoulder awkwardly, with a hand that was tipped with bright-red talons.

‘Where’s her phone?’ asked Reynolds.

‘I found it next to the horsebox,’ said Took. ‘She must have dropped it. Your lot have it now.’

‘What about her make-up bag?’ asked Rice.

‘She doesn’t wear make-up,’ said Barbara and then looked at John Took questioningly. ‘She doesn’t when she’s with me, anyway.’

‘Nor me,’ countered Took immediately, and let her go.

The bedside table held a little mirror on a stand but the drawer underneath revealed nothing but junk – bits of costume jewellery, keyrings with cartoon characters on them, coins, creams, a broken phone, and about fifty different kinds of hair clip.

Rice noticed a backpack at the foot of the bed. ‘Is that her school bag?’

‘Yes. John takes her on Mondays and I pick her up.’

Rice rummaged inside and quickly came up with a small pink make-up bag containing strawberry lip gloss, mascara and two five-pound notes. Barbara Took glared at her ex-husband, but Reynolds and Rice exchanged another kind of look entirely. If Jess Took had simply run away, make-up and money would have been the real essentials, whatever the hell Mr Rabbit said.

They filed back downstairs and Reynolds went through procedures with them. How things would work: how the search would be organized; arranging a similar visit to Barbara Took’s home; assignment of a family liaison officer; and, finally, what to do in case of a note or call demanding ransom.

‘I don’t have any money,’ said Took. ‘The horses take it all.’

This was such a ridiculous statement that – in the circumstances – everyone in the room did him the courtesy of ignoring it.

Reynolds asked Took and his ex-wife whether they had any enemies. It was a standard question and rarely elicited a positive response.

Barbara shook her head, but John Took said breezily, ‘Sure, who doesn’t?’

Reynolds was taken aback. So, apparently, was Barbara.

‘Not anyone who’d kidnap Jess!’

Took shrugged. ‘Nowadays who knows? People are such fucking arseholes.’

And the mystery of the enemies is quickly solved, thought Reynolds.

* * *

At the foot of Dunkery Beacon, John Took’s horsebox stood alone. The entrance to the makeshift car park had been barred with a strip of police tape. A few cars and an empty police Land Rover were parked on the verge. There was no sign of the matching officer.

After a minute stood turning aimlessly on their own axes, Rice pointed out a DayGlo flash behind some nearby gorse and they watched as a portly policeman zipped up and then emerged to return to his car. His pace picked up as he realized he was no longer the sole representative of the Avon & Somerset force on the Beacon.

Reynolds introduced himself and Rice but pointedly declined to shake hands.

‘If you’re going to relieve yourself in public, take off your hi-vis, will you? People can see you taking a leak from bloody Wales.’

‘Sorry, sir.’

‘When was the scene set up?’

‘Last night.’

Shit. Almost forty-eight hours after Jess disappeared. The forensics would be a joke.

‘You have the girl’s phone?’

‘I don’t know about that, sir. You’d have to speak to the beat officer who called it in.’

‘Jonas Holly?’

The man looked surprised, then careful. ‘No, sir. He’s on leave.’

Still? Reynolds said nothing. He’d rather not have to explain how he was the man who’d failed to catch the killer of Jonas’s wife. Ipso facto: if he’d done his job, then maybe Jonas would have made it back to work by now. Even so, Reynolds couldn’t help being relieved that he hadn’t. He didn’t need a reminder of past failures. Or of that hug – God forbid. The last time he’d seen the man, Reynolds had hugged him in an embrace that had been all him and no Jonas. Hugged him and promised to catch his wife’s killer. Reynolds couldn’t decide now which empty gesture he was more embarrassed by.

Reynolds told the patrol officer that forensic teams would be arriving within the hour. Until then no one was to cross the police tape. Obviously.

‘Whose cars are these?’

‘Walkers. I’ve been getting flak all morning for the car park being closed.’

Reynolds almost smiled at the flat dirt area being described as a car park.

He was keen to take a look inside the horsebox, but their leads on this case might be few and far between, without him and Rice adding their footprints to the dust alongside it.

They’d wait.

Reynolds had always prided himself on his patience.

5

THERE WAS A new girl. Emily Carver.

Steven tried not to look at her, but even the act of looking away from her made him self-conscious. When it was safe, he stared at the back of her head, where her thick brown hair was caught loosely in a green velvet ribbon.