'It's Rose,' said Ellie, not believing herself. 'There's been an accident.'

She made for the dining-room, seeking a way into the garden. Pascoe caught her by the shoulders.

'Telephone,' he said, his voice low, his mind racing. From the dining-room a narrow flight of stairs ran to the next floor. His ears were alert for any slight sound of movement above.

'Yes,' said Ellie. 'Doctor. No, ambulance is better, there was a hospital sign, do you remember?'

There was a telephone on the floor beside one of the two armchairs. She bent over it.

'No,' said Pascoe, taking her arm and pushing her towards the front door. 'We passed a phone box down the road. Use that. And get the police. Tell them they'll need an ambulance and a doctor.'

'Police?' repeated Ellie.

'Hurry,' said Pascoe urgently.

He heard the Riley start as he placed his foot carefully on the first stair. It creaked, the second even more so, and, abandoning stealth, he took the rest at a run, narrowly missing cracking his head against the ceiling cross-beam halfway up.

He went through the nearest door low and fast. A bedroom. Empty. Bed unslept in.

The next the same. Then a bathroom. A tiny junk-room. One more to go. Certain now the first floor was uninhabited, he still took no chances and entered as violently as before.

Looking down at the bed, his heart stood still. A pair of children's handcuffs lay across the two pillows. In one bracelet was a red rose. In the other a young nettle. On the bedhead above was pinned a paper banner.