‘Hardly Kew Gardens,’ muttered Simms.

Skinner stepped carefully over the mess and studied the gardens on each side and those running back to back. ‘He would have to climb over quite a few garden fences to get here from the street.’ He turned to Jordan. ‘Check with the neighbours. See if they saw anyone climbing over their fences during the night.’

‘If they had they’d have been straight on to us,’ said Jordan.

He received a paint-blistering glare from Skinner. ‘That wasn’t a subject for debate, Constable, that was a bloody order. Just do it. Comprende?

‘Comprende,’ muttered Jordan. He wasn’t taking to this new chief inspector.

Skinner turned his attention to the adjacent gardens. ‘All those fences to climb,’ he muttered. ‘Whoever did this was determined to get the kiddy.’ He clicked his fingers for Simms’s attention. ‘Let’s cover the worst-case scenario – a paedophile. Radio the station. I want everyone on the sex offenders register checked, then visited. I want to know if any of them are wearing bandages or plasters to cover cuts from broken glass. And I want their premises searched – plasters or not. If anyone refuses, we get a search warrant.’

Simms radioed the station.

‘And where are we supposed to get the flaming manpower to do this?’ demanded Wells. ‘What prat authorised this?’

Skinner snatched the radio from Simms. ‘Chief Inspector Skinner here, Sergeant. I authorised it and I expect my orders to be carried out without question. Just do it!’ He clicked off and thrust the radio back at Simms. ‘There are going to be some changes here. Denton seems to be staffed by idiots.’

‘You don’t think it’s a kidnapping then, sir?’ asked Simms.

‘Use your flaming common sense, Constable. How much money do you think the mother could raise? I’d say a tenner, top whack.’