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years, it’s not at all uncommon. Child abductors, though, are very rare, and invariably sexually motivated. In the present day, such a person is
likely to be heavily involved with the worst forms of child pornography. You would also expect to see a pattern of offending behaviour from adolescence onwards.’ He fixed Jenny with a
searching, sceptical look. ‘As far as I know, Ed Morgan had never been in trouble with the police. Is there any suggestion that he was sexually abusing his stepdaughters?’
    ‘I’m sure that’s something my inquiry will examine,’ Jenny said, remembering now that, even though he had been a young man at the time of his daughter’s
disappearance, Philip Ashton had always employed an acid eloquence when dealing with questioners.
    ‘Was she cheating on him?’ Clare Ashton asked. ‘I know she’s a very beautiful woman, but since being with Ed I got the impression she’d settled down.’
    ‘I know nothing about her, Mrs Ashton. Not yet.’
    Clare’s eyes darted warily towards her husband’s. Jenny sensed there was something she wanted to share.
    ‘I’ll probably have to ask you for a statement in due course,’ Jenny said, ‘the same with all the neighbours. But if there’s anything you’d like to tell me
that you think might prove useful?’
    Another glance passed between them. Philip Ashton gave a slight shrug as if to say that if Clare wanted to speak it was up to her.
    ‘Kelly cleans for us once a week. She has done for years. I wouldn’t say I knew everything about her, but I always got the impression she and Ed were close. She said he was good with
the daughters, especially Layla – she’d been behaving quite badly lately. Fourteen going on twenty.’ Clare smiled faintly. ‘According to Kelly, he hardly ever raised his
voice, even when Layla was being impossible.’
    ‘I’m not in any position to draw inferences,’ Jenny said, ‘but in these cases a man’s violent behaviour can sometimes appear completely out of character.’
    ‘Yes, but – ’ Clare’s eyes seemed to lose their focus. Her body stiffened. ‘Sorry, I’m feeling a little discomfort.’ She reached under her cardigan to
what Jenny assumed was a morphine pump.
    ‘I should go,’ Jenny said tactfully.
    As she rose from her chair, Clare said, ‘Philip, tell her about Darren Brooks.’
    ‘What about him?’
    ‘Their history.’
    ‘I don’t think repeating village gossip—’
    ‘Please,’ Clare said sharply. ‘And it’s hardly gossip.’
    Jenny remained standing while Philip relayed his information in clipped, staccato sentences.
    ‘Darren Brooks is a local builder. He lives around the corner at The Forge – the place that looks like a gypsy encampment. He and Kelly were together years ago, then when she met Ed
she moved him out – or rather, as I recall, had him ejected. He’s had other relationships since, several possibly, but those who claim to know hold that his affections continued to lie
with Kelly. He also has a fourteen-year-old daughter named Nicky, by his former wife, though I think they may be together again – I lose track – but you get the idea.’
    ‘Tell her about last night,’ Clare croaked.
    Philip Ashton gave a tight-lipped nod. ‘I was among a number of people who came out of our homes when we saw the house had caught fire. It had clearly taken hold very quickly. You
wouldn’t have thought anyone inside could possibly still be alive, but Darren Brooks . . . well, he ran towards the flames. I don’t know quite what he hoped to achieve. I think I heard
him call Kelly’s name. Then came the explosion – the gas tank. He was thrown off his feet and quite badly burned. His clothing caught light. Fortunately for me it was just my hands. I
must have used them to shield my face.’
    ‘I see,’ Jenny said. ‘So Mr Brooks was prepared to run into a burning building for her.’
    ‘He made an attempt to get inside, but I couldn’t comment on his precise