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That’s a very small amount, which could certainly have a profound effect on your state of mind during the day.
    JC: It’s fine.
    He’s being stoic suddenly, as if he regrets confiding in me.
 
    FM: I don’t think three or four hours’ sleep is fine.
    JC: Maybe I’m wrong. It’s probably more.
    FM: You seemed quite certain.
    JC: It’s nothing I can’t cope with.
    I don’t believe him.
 
    FM: Have you sought any medical help?
    JC: I’m not taking pills.
    FM: What goes through your mind when you’re trying to sleep?
    Again, he studies me before responding.
 
    JC: I can’t remember.
    His answers have become obviously and frustratingly evasive, and I want to delve more into this, but now is not the time, because if this process is to succeed I must first build his trust and that, I suspect, is not going to be an easy task.
 

DAY 2
    MONDAY, 22 OCTOBER 2012
    Efforts undertaken by law-enforcement agencies during the initial stages of a missing-child report may often make the difference between a case with a swift conclusion and one evolving into months or even years of stressful, unresolved investigation. While the investigative aspect of a missing-child case is similar, in many ways, to other major cases, few of these other situations have the added emotional stress created by the unexplained absence of a child. When not anticipated and prepared for, this stress may negatively impact the outcome of a missing-child case.
 
    Findlay, Preston and Lowery, Jr, Robert G (eds.), ‘Missing and Abducted Children: A Law-Enforcement Guide to Case Investigation and Program Management’, Fourth Edition, National Center for Missing and Exploited Children, OJJDP Report, 2011
 

RACHEL
    John couldn’t stand the waiting. He wanted to do something, so he spent most of the night driving around, circling the woods, following the routes back into Bristol, just in case.
    Each time he returned, he sat in my car and asked me to go over what had happened.
    ‘I’ve told you,’ I said, when he asked for the third time.
    ‘Tell me again.’
    ‘How will it help?’
    ‘It might.’
    ‘I’m so scared he’s hurt.’
    John winced at my words but I needed to say more.
    ‘He’ll be so frightened.’
    ‘I know.’ His reply was tight, tense.
    ‘He’ll be wondering why we haven’t found him yet.’
    ‘Stop! Just tell me again. From the beginning.’
    I did. I told him everything I could remember, over and over again, but it was simple really. Ben was there, and then he ran ahead, and then he was gone. No sign, except a rope swing, gently swaying.
    ‘Do you think he’d been on it?’ John asked. ‘How was it swaying?’
    ‘Backwards and forwards. Gently.’
    ‘Could the wind have blown it?’
    ‘It might have.’
    ‘Have you told the police?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘And you heard nothing?’
    ‘No. Just the sounds of the woods.’
    ‘And you called out to him?’
    ‘Of course I did.’
    And so on. In this way, the hours passed slowly, desperately. We punctuated the time by speaking periodically to the police, getting updates that told us nothing. I rang Nicky more than once, passing on the lack of news, hearing the mounting desperation in my voice echoed in her responses.
     
    Inspector Miller arrived before midnight in full waterproof gear, to oversee the search. The men with dogs changed shift twice. Sodden and tired animals handed over to eager, bright-eyed creatures, straining at their leashes. I gave them Ben’s jumper to sniff, so they knew his scent. The darkness was our greatest enemy, holding back the possibility of a full-scale search.
    At 5 am, Inspector Miller called John and me together to tell us what was happening. They were readying themselves for dawn, he said, which would be at 07.37. He ran through a list of the actions that were planned, using police speak that I only partially understood. There were to be more dogs, horses, a sergeant and six; Mountain Rescue were coming, and they’d scrambled the Eye in