‘Simon!’ Sarah said the moment he walked into the office.

So no chance now of slipping silently to his desk, especially as everyone else had looked up too. He felt his hand tremble, so tightened his grip on his satchel’s strap to hide it as he glanced from Sara to the rest of the team and back to Sarah. He hadn’t known what to expect, but suspicion was what he anticipated. Only now, they all looked glad.

‘It’s good to see you back,’ Sarah said, following along behind him.

Pam and Hilda joined her, both saying, ‘Simon, Simon, we missed you.’

‘They needed your design genius,’ John said.

At least he hadn’t joined the group that was following Simon to his desk. It was second to last along a row of double desks in their open plan office. Sarah, as team leader, had the end desk nearest the window that looked out onto a boring office dominated street, but if she leaned her chair far back enough, she could peek through a gap between two buildings and see St Pauls.

‘Let me get you a cup of tea. You’ll need it after all that stress,’ Hilda said.

‘That was last week,’ Simon said, glancing at Liz’s desk, that was conspicuously empty.

‘All the same, the police are brutes. I hope they didn’t threaten you?’

‘No, they were really polite.’

It was the truth, even if it had felt threatening at the time. Simon guessed his father’s conditioning that had drilled into him the police were to be avoided at all costs, had embedded itself into his psyche.

‘It was just police procedure. Simon was merely unlucky he lived so close to where Liz went missing,’ Sarah said, returning to her desk and smiling up at him over the low dividers they had that supposedly provided some privacy but didn’t prevent conversation. ‘Now let’s get back to work and leave Simon to unpack.’

‘With tea,’ Hilda said, depositing a mug of milky white tea on his desk.

Simon preferred stronger tea with only a dash of milk. While the rest of his teammates knew that, Hilda just kept making tea the way she liked it.

Simon glanced at Liz’s desk again and wondered when she’d come back. He didn’t think he’d be able to believe she was okay until he saw her with his own eyes. But he felt too awkward to ask about her.

Just then the creak of crutches drew everyone’s attention back to their sliding glass doors and Liz stepped inside, her leg in a cast, and a large plaster covering her left cheek, but otherwise looking fine and grinning from ear to ear.

‘Liz!’ everyone shouted.

‘Oh, yeah, hi,’ Liz said with an embarrassed wave. ‘I’m sorry I caused you so much trouble,’ she said, turning to Simon.

‘Oh, uh, it couldn’t be helped,’ Simon said, aware every eye in the room was now on him. ‘I’m really glad you’re okay. At least… you are okay, aren’t you?’

‘Just a bit dinged up, but it doesn’t hurt anymore, so they gave me permission to come back. I dread to think how much work has piled up in my absence.’

‘It’s fine,’ Sarah said. ‘We could have coped without you for a while longer. If you find yourself flagging, feel free to go home early.’

‘But go home,’ Hilda said. ‘What were you even doing near Simon’s? Is there a little hush-hush thing going on between the two of you?’

Simon blinked at Hilda in amazement, shaking his head. Liz looked like she was squirming with embarrassment.

‘I was actually on my way to see my boyfriend. I didn’t know Simon’s flat was so close by.’

‘It’s fine, no need to explain,’ Simon said and turned on his massive computer monitor as a hope that people would take the hint and go back to work.

‘Maybe just ask your boyfriend to move,’ Pam said, and everybody laughed.

Simon was just glad to get confirmation Liz was okay. He’d been having difficulty sleeping, and was off his food too, despite Dr Nobel’s orders. He hoped Liz being back would put an end to his own anxiety induced restlessness.

For now, he popped half a dozen lumps of crystallised ginger into his tea, gave it a stir and started on the mountain of emails that had stacked up during his absence.

***

Jaq rewound the interview tapes and rubbed her eyes tiredly before watching it over again, looking for any slip-ups during the interrogation. The case was one of the worst, a missing boy. Two older boys from the same school had spirited him away. Brad Davis was twelve years old and had last been captured on CCTV, being intimidated by the two suspects outside a corner shop, and then being led away by them. Brad had looked terrified.

So far, the investigating team had the CCTV footage and the missing boy’s blood on the suspect’s clothes. But the two steadfastly denied everything, even that they knew Brad. Since Jaq and Darren had been allocated the interrogation, it was up to them to get the boys to talk.

The rest of the team searched the area where Brad had last been seen, questioned friends and relatives, analysed reams of social media posts and did anything and everything that could help them find Brad. Hopefully, still alive, although the blood spatter was worrying.

‘Nothing we say gets through to either of those two,’ Jaq said as she glared at the computer monitors displaying the two boys, each seated in an interrogation room, accompanied by a social worker and a family member.

The big burly kid, Chazza, slumped on the desk, his head buried in his arms. The smaller, rat-like Miles was wide awake despite the hours they’d spent questioning him and looking about as if plotting his escape.

Darren stared at his chunky watch, his lips moving as he calculated how much longer they could hold the kids.

‘Well?’ Jaq asked.

‘Five hours and twenty-seven minutes.’

‘Damn, and the social workers won’t allow them to spend a second more than that, either.’

Darren ran a hand over his stubbled head and said, ‘I’m stumped. They won’t shift, the social workers just obstruct us and the psychological profiler hasn’t given us anything that’s helped. At this rate, we’ll never find that kid.’

‘Do you think he’s still alive?’

‘God, I hope so,’ Darren said.

As the father of three teenage sons, this case was hitting particularly close to home for him.

‘There is still one possibility, but it’s one hell of a long shot.’

Jaq had been sitting on the idea for a while, and until now, she’d decided against mentioning it every time it surfaced. Now they had nothing else.

‘Let’s hear it,’ Darren said, rubbing his tired eyes.

‘Simon White.’

‘The serial killer’s son? I don’t see what use he would be?’

‘He spent time at a young offenders’ institute.’

‘So you think he might scare them into saying something to reduce their sentences? That really is a long shot, especially as we have nothing concrete to nail the little shits with.’

‘He lives close enough that it won’t be a bother to get him to come here, will it?’

‘It’s one in the morning.’

‘If we explain the urgency of the situation, I’m sure he’ll understand.’

‘I’m not so sure he will,’ Darren said, but shrugged. ‘What the hell, aside from having a last go at the kids ourselves, and praying the team going over the CCTV footage finds something, we’ve got nothing better right now.’

Jaq pulled on a jumper as she followed Darren out. She really was clutching at straws, but she would do whatever it took to try to find Brad. If she discovered more out about Simon into the bargain, all the better because the more she thought about it, the stranger his life and behaviour seemed.

***

They drove to Simon White’s place again. It wouldn’t save them many minutes, but it would save some.

‘God damn, that’s a lot of stairs,’ Darren muttered as he headed for the wide concrete stairs that formed a square tower up to the fourth floor. ‘I forgot about those when I agreed to come over.’

‘They would certainly keep you fit if you had to go up and down them every day, huh?’ Jaq said, grinning at her partner. ‘I’d give an arm and a leg to be able to relocate here, but I probably couldn’t afford the rent, despite the lack of a lift.’

‘I don’t know. It’s got to be cheaper than Angel.’

‘I wouldn’t bet on it. With the Docklands nearby, the rents around here are silly high. Not that I need much. I barely go home to sleep, so I’m fine with a studio, but they’re hard to come by and anything bigger is usually out of my price range.’

‘Yeah, we should have both gone into finance like all the office workers around us. Then we wouldn’t have to worry about having a roof over our heads.’

‘I wonder how White does it,’ Jaq said. ‘Sarah’s paid better than me and even she and Aaron can’t afford a nice place in this location. They’re looking to move right out of London and commute in so that they can afford to buy a house. Simon must be on similar money.’

Darren nodded, but looked too winded by the climb to comment. He was alright though, Jaq thought. He and his wife had bought their little terrace just before the housing boom kicked off.

‘Well, here we are,’ Jaq said coming to a stop before Simon White’s beautifully stripped and varnished wooden door that was quite a contrast to his neighbours’ who’d painted their doors everything from black to white, blue and even a pink door further along the balcony.

‘This was your idea,’ Darren said, tilting his head meaningfully.

So Jaq rang the doorbell. Then the two of them stared at the intercom light, waiting for it to come on. Jaq always counted slowly to ten when she was waiting for a response. She felt that was more than sufficient for a person to get to the door. After that, she rang again when the flat stayed dark and silent. Then she rang a third time, keeping her finger on the bell that little bit longer.

This time, the light came on.

‘You again.’ Simon’s voice sounded electronic and a touch hysterical. ‘It’s one thirty in the morning. What the hell is going on?’

‘Mr White, sorry to bother you so late.’ Jaq schooled her voice and face to convey a maximum level of apology. ‘We were wondering whether you could help us.’

‘I’m not opening the door unless you have a warrant.’

‘We’re on a time sensitive case and we really could use your help to get through to our two suspects, Simon. Please.’

‘Get through?’ Simon sounded confused now.

‘They’re young, fourteen and fifteen, and we think they’ve abducted a twelve-year-old. We’re really worried about his safety.’

‘Get a professional to help you. A shrink or… or a social worker.’

‘We wouldn’t be here if we hadn’t already tried everything else. You’re our last long shot. Otherwise, in a couple of hours we’ll have to let them go and you can bet they won’t go anywhere near the kid in case we’re tailing them, which we will be.’

There was a long pause, so long, Jaq was tempted to ask again, but Darren shook his head and gestured to wait. To her surprise, a couple of seconds later, Simon opened the door a crack and peered out at them.

‘What exactly would you want me to do?’

‘Try to talk some sense into them,’ Darren said, much to Jaq’s relief. She felt like Simon was more angry with her than with Darren, so it was best he took the lead. ‘You’re closer in age to them, so they’ll be able to relate better to you. You’ve also spent time in a young offenders’ institution.’

Simon pulled the door nearly shut, but even so they could see that he’d turned paler.

‘My… my juvenile record?’

‘Ah! I’m sorry… we didn’t tell you last time, did we?’ Jaq said. ‘It wasn’t relevant in the end, but your record was flagged when we were looking into potential suspects.’

‘I can’t help you,’ Simon said, and now the door had only a hair’s width crack. ‘Please leave.’

‘Simon, please.’ Jaq said, putting her hand on the door to keep it open without making it look like she was going to force her way in. ‘The information will go no further than Darren and I. Please!’

Simon was shaking now, looking as scared as when they’d hauled him in over Liz’s disappearance.

‘We’ll make it as easy as we can for you. Just help us and held Brad.’

‘Who?’

‘Brad Davis, the missing boy.’

Simon stared blankly at Jaq, then glanced across at Darren, who gave him a wry smile. Jaq wished he’d do more because she didn’t feel like she was getting through to Simon.

But to her surprise, he took a deep breath and said, ‘So… you want them to be scared straight?’

‘It works on some kids,’

‘You really think I can do anything your people couldn’t do?’

‘Honestly, we do not know, but we’re willing to give it a go.’

Simon stared at her like she’d lost her mind, then back to Darren.

‘You guys really must be desperate. Let me put some clothes on,’ he muttered and closed the door in their faces.

‘Well, I guess we couldn’t expect a warm welcome,’ Darren said with a grin.

Less than ten minutes later, Simon reappeared, dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved navy t-shirt with a leather satchel slung across his body.

‘What’s that?’ Jaq asked, already heading back to the stairs.

‘My work stuff. I don’t know how long you’ll need me, but I’m damned if I’m going to be late for work.’

‘Fair enough. We can’t actually hold them past 6:30 anyway,’ Jaq said, and just got a curt nod from Simon.

He looked grim, pale and on edge. Hopefully, the boys wouldn’t pick up on his nerves. They were the type who could sniff out weakness and prey on it.