‘Here, love,’ he said, ‘this’ll do you good. I’ve got some sugar if…’

‘I can’t drink it,’ she said. ‘I couldn’t…’ And then she clutched the porcelain cup, someone’s long-forgotten souvenir of Blackpool, in her hands as if for warmth. Her hands were shaking quite badly, and Farnham wanted to tell her to put it down before she slopped the coffee and scalded herself.

‘I couldn’t,’ she said again. Then she drank, still holding the cup two-handed, the way a child will hold his cup of broth. And when she looked at them, it was a child’s look – simple, ex-hausted, appealing… and at bay, somehow. It was as if whatever had happened had somehow shocked her young; as if some invisible hand had swooped down from the sky and slapped the last twenty years out of her, leaving a child in grownup American clothes in this small white interrogation room in Crouch End.

‘Lonnie,’ she said. ‘The monsters,’ she said. ‘Will you help me? Will you please help me?

Maybe he isn’t dead. Maybe…

‘I’m an American citizen!’ she cried suddenly, and then, as if she had said something deeply shameful, she began to sob.

Vetter patted her shoulder. ‘There, love. I think we can help find your Lonnie. Your husband, is he?’

Still sobbing, she nodded. ‘Danny and Norma are back at the hotel… with the sitter… they’ll be sleeping… expecting him to kiss them when we come in…’

‘Now if you could just relax and tell us what happened…’

‘And where it happened,’ Farnham added. Vetter looked up at him swiftly, frowning. ‘But that’s just it!’ she cried. ‘I don’t know where it happened! I’m not even sure what happened, except that it was h-huh-horrible.’

Vetter had taken out his notebook. ‘What’s your name, love?’

‘Doris Freeman. My husband is Leonard Freeman. We’re staying at the Hotel Inter-Continental. We’re American citizens.’ This time the statement of nationality actually seemed to steady her a little. She sipped her coffee and put the mug down. Farnham saw that the palms of her hands were quite red. You’ll feel that later, dearie, he thought. Vetter was drudging it all down in his notebook. Now he looked momentarily at PC Farnham, just an unobtrusive flick of the eyes.