Ji checks his laptop again. ‘No one’s going to keep watching this stuff…’

  Adam doesn’t like the way Ji’s voice has suddenly tailed off.

  ‘What’s up?’ he asks.

  The whole laptop screen is now black except for two small shards of light cutting through the darkness like tiny headlights. Is it a vehicle driving across the Wiltshire landscape? They both glance around but can’t see or hear any traffic.

  ‘I’m not sure,’ Ji says. ‘Looks like a new camera’s just come on. Maybe another drone, flying very high.’

  Instinctively, they both stare up at the night sky. Nothing. A winking plane in the distance. A passing satellite. Adam takes the laptop from Ji and lifts it up closer to get a better look.

  ‘Careful,’ Ji says, angling down the lid to shield the glowing light.

  But Adam’s not listening. Instead, he stares at the screen, the grainy darkness. The image is not an aerial drone shot, it’s much closer to home. Human shapes have begun to form, like figures emerging in the mist, lit up dimly by the two small beams of light. Tilly in her cot and next to her Freddie in his bed. And lying across a mattress on the floor is his wife, fast asleep.

  It takes a moment to work out where the beams of light are coming from, where the camera must be. And when he realises, Adam knows he only has himself to blame. His stomach contracts into a tangled knot. He feels a fool for having been played so easily. Louis – and Clio – must have put money on him bringing the Scalextric car down to Freddie.

  Adam closes his eyes. He’s too soft a touch, always has been as a father. Louis would have had plenty of opportunity to insert a small camera inside the car, between the time when Clio took it from the outbuildings and when she delivered it to their home in Greenwich. The technical know-how too, if he was already installing hidden cameras in showerheads when he was at uni. The Ferrari car is like a miniature Trojan horse. Adam gave it to Tania, who duly placed it by Freddie’s bed, ready for when he wakes in the morning. And now live images of their sleeping children are being broadcast once again across the dark web.

  64

  ‘Come on, Tania, wake up,’ Adam mutters, phone pressed to his ear as he paces backwards and forwards under the trees. ‘Wake up.’

  He’s just explained to Ji where the live images are coming from, how the camera got there, that this particular Scalextric model, the Ferrari 412P, has working front and back lights. It’s the feature that Freddie likes most about the car, particularly when his grandpa turns off the garage lights and plunges the track into darkness.

  ‘Once Tania’s asleep, there’s no waking her,’ he continues, smacking his hand against the trunk of a tree. ‘It’s on silent and her parents’ phones are both switched off. I’m going down there, to take away the car.’

  ‘That’s exactly what they want you to do,’ Ji says, looking up at him from where he’s sitting on the ground. He’s still glued to his laptop. ‘To protect your family.’

  ‘Too bad. They know we’re watching?’

  ‘We must assume so. Maybe they managed to listen in to you and Tania talking earlier. Intercepted your texts. I don’t know. Or they became suspicious when the baby monitor was turned off.’

  Adam looks across at Ji for a second. Is his friend bluffing? Did he tell Louis that they were watching?

  ‘I can’t just stay up here, Ji, not with those images going out live on the dark web. Not of my sleeping family. It’s a violation.’ Adam paces around like a wild animal, his suspicions about Ji giving way to raw anger.

  ‘I understand,’ Ji says. ‘If Phang Phang were down there, I’d feel the same. If my children were there…’

  A moment later, they both spot a van on the main road. The driver kills the headlights as it turns into the lane leading down to Tania’s parents’ house.

  ‘That’s not normal,’ Adam says, looking at the van through the Handycam. ‘It’s still going, pulling up outside the gates.’ Far enough away not to trigger the security lights.

  ‘A new feed’s come up,’ Ji says. ‘From the van’s dashcam.’

  The screen is filled with the front of the house. Who’s in that van? Is it Louis? Clio? Someone else?

  ‘I’m going down there,’ Adam says again. ‘Call me on the burner if anything changes.’

  ‘The bidding’s started again,’ Ji says.

  ‘What for?’

  ‘I’m not sure yet.’

  ‘I can’t stay up here any longer, Ji. I have to go down.’

  ‘Be careful.’ Ji holds up his hand to shake. ‘I will try to help from here if I can.’

  Adam shakes Ji’s hand and disappears down the hill, running across the field. He’s got no option but to trust Ji. For once, he wishes Tilly were unable to sleep, in need of a midnight feed. But she’s clearly out for the count and Tania will be too. She’s so tired and an uninterrupted night is a rare event.

  When he’s still a good eight hundred yards from the house, Adam feels his phone begin to vibrate. Has Tania woken up?

  It’s Ji.

  ‘Tell me,’ Adam says, slowing to a breathless jog.

  ‘I’m afraid it’s Freddie.’

  Adam’s stomach lurches. ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘It’s why the car camera came on. Someone’s just bid for him. Reserve met.’

  ‘Jesus.’ Adam starts to run again, faster than he’s ever run in his life, heart jumping out of his chest as he tries to talk to Ji. ‘The van? Has it moved?’

  ‘I can’t hear you.’

  Adam slows to repeat himself. ‘Has the van moved?’

  ‘Someone’s just got out,’ Ji says. ‘Looks like—’

  ‘Who? Who does it look like, Ji?’

  ‘That woman in your kitchen.’

  Clio. ‘Tell me what she’s doing.’

  ‘Running around to the outbuildings. Where Tania and the kids are sleeping.’

  Adam looks up. ‘Why hasn’t she triggered the security lights?’

  ‘Easily overridden.’

  ‘We need to wake them up. Warn them.’ He starts to yell and shout as he sprints towards the house, as if it’s on fire. ‘Hey! Hey! Get away from there.’ He tries to call out Clio’s name too, but it sticks in his throat. ‘I know it’s you!’ he bellows. ‘Get away from my son. Get away from my fucking family, do you hear?’

  It’s difficult to run and shout and talk on the phone. ‘Are you still there, Ji?’ he asks, slowing, out of breath. ‘What’s happening now? I’m nearly at the house.’

  ‘She’s dropped out of sight. There’s no camera by the door. She’s in the bedroom.’

  Jesus. Another burst of adrenaline. ‘Hey! Hey! Tania, wake up!’ he shouts. ‘Tania! Anyone! Please wake up! What’s happening, Ji?’ he says into the phone, barely able to speak as he tries to keep running. ‘I need to know what’s happening to my son.’

  ‘She’s taken him. Lifted him up in his sleep. I think your daughter is awake.’

  ‘Awake? Tilly! Please, Tilly! Make a fucking noise. Cry! Tania! Wake up!’ He is still shouting at the top of his voice. ‘Please start crying, Tilly. Please wake your mummy.’ Words he never thought he’d say.

  He’s still five hundred yards from the house, tears streaming down his own face. And then in the distance he sees Clio, Freddie asleep on her shoulder as she walks quickly through the front gates.

  ‘She’s gone round the far side of the van, I can’t see her,’ Ji says. ‘She’s in a blind spot. Off camera. I think she’s just put Freddie in the back.’

  ‘Freddie! Wake up! You’ve got to wake up!’ Adam shouts. He’s nearly at the side of the house now, running across the lawn.

  But he’s too late. He hears the van first, and then sees it turn round and speed away down the drive, just as he reaches the gravel courtyard. He runs round to the outbuildings where Tania is sleeping. The door is open, key in the lock. Somehow Clio must have had a key. And then he checks under the flowerpot. Nothing. They were listening when he asked Tania to leave a key out. Has Louis managed to hack into his burner phone? The only person who knows his number, other than Tania, is Ji. It must be her phone that’s been hacked.

  He pushes open the door and runs down the corridor to the children’s room.

  ‘Tania! Tania!’

  Breathless, he bursts into the room.

  ‘What is it?’ Tania says, sitting up on the mattress, confused, eyes heavy with sleep.

  Tilly starts to cry from her cot. Too late.

  ‘They’ve taken Freddie. Where are the keys? To our car?’

  ‘Oh my God, oh my God,’ Tania says, looking across at Freddie’s empty bed.

  ‘It’s OK. I’m going to get him back. They’ve just left. I need the car keys.’

  ‘Over there,’ she says, pointing to the back of the door, running a hand through her hair. ‘In my jeans. Who took him?’

  He rummages for the keys in her jeans pocket and hovers by the door, gesticulating at her as he speaks. ‘Ring the police, tell them that Freddie’s been taken.’ He can’t bring himself to tell Tania who by. ‘Tell them everything. That he was driven away in a dark blue Transit van. I’ll call you with the number plate. I’m going after him.’

  He’s about to leave when he stops, turns, and picks up the red Ferrari. He runs out the door and hurls the car as far as he can into the undergrowth as he sprints around to their car.

  65

  Clio could have gone two ways: to Marlborough, or down towards the Salisbury road. Adam will call Ji to find out, hopes he’s been watching the dashcam, memorising the turns. Freddie will be terrified when he wakes up, if he’s not done so already, and will wonder where he is and why the strange woman from the park has taken him again.

  Adam jumps into the car, their old Touran, keys the ignition and wheelspins towards the gates, throwing gravel up behind him. He’s never liked gravel. A second later, as he passes through the gates, headlights on full beam, he jams on the brakes, bringing the car to a juddering halt. Standing in the middle of the road in his pyjamas, a young black puppy in his arms, headlights dazzling his sleepy eyes, is Freddie.

  ‘What are you doing here, monkey?’ Adam says, getting out of the car and rushing round to him. He stopped the car just a foot from his son.

  ‘She gave me a puppy,’ Freddie says. ‘The nice lady from the park. She said she would.’

  Adam puts a hand to his mouth to stifle a gasp. He’s not sure if he’s about to throw up or cry. Kneeling down, he hugs them both.

  ‘He’s called Louis,’ Freddie says.

  ‘No, he’s not, monkey,’ Adam says. ‘He’s not called Louis.’

  ‘Yes, he is. The lady said his name was Louis.’

  Adam bites his lip. ‘Let’s go and find Mummy, tell her you’re OK, shall we?’

  Adam scoops up Freddie and the dog, cradling them both in his big arms, and jogs round to the outbuilding, confused and frightened and relieved all at the same time.

  ‘He’s here,’ he calls out. ‘It’s OK, he’s here. Freddie’s safe.’

  He walks into the corridor, where Tania is on the phone, talking frantically. Her eyes widen at the sight of Freddie. He listens as she makes her excuses, apologising profusely to the police for wasting their time again, and hangs up.

  ‘What the—’

  ‘Don’t ask.’ Adam shakes his head as he passes Freddie and the puppy over to Tania. ‘I have no idea what’s going on either. Are your parents awake?’

  ‘Not yet.’

  Thank God. Crispin would be shooting people by now if he was up.

  ‘And who’s this little monster?’ Tania turns to her son, somehow managing to sound normal.

  She hugs Freddie, kisses his head, smooths his hair like he’s a newborn. The puppy follows suit, licking Freddie’s face.

  ‘He’s called Louis,’ Freddie says.

  ‘No, he’s not,’ Adam repeats, running a hand through his own hair. ‘He’s not bloody called Louis.’

  Tania gives him a look as Freddie begins to cry.

  ‘Yes, he is,’ Freddie whimpers. ‘That’s what the nice lady said his name was.’

  ‘I’m going after whoever was in that van,’ Adam says, turning to leave.

  ‘Was it Clio?’ Tania asks. ‘“The nice lady”?’ she adds through gritted teeth.

  ‘Her and maybe someone else,’ Adam says. ‘Ji will know more, where the car’s heading. He’s still up on the hillside, watching the… the live feed. This can’t go on any longer. It has to end. And I’m the only one who can make it stop.’

  ‘Where are you going, Daddy?’ Freddie asks as Adam heads for the door.

  ‘I’ll be home in a bit, monkey, I promise,’ he says.

  He walks back into the room and kisses Freddie. And then he kisses Tania.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ he says. ‘I need to do this.’ Bring the final curtain down.

  He’s about to turn and leave for the second time when something catches his eye on Freddie’s pillow. Walking over, he picks it up, twists it in his hand. Another card, this time the letter ‘L’. And then he sees something else on the pillow.

  A brown-patterned feather. Just like the one in his memory box, given to him by Clio at Cambridge. It’s from a barn owl. Symbol of protection. Owls will do anything to protect their young.

  66

  Adam jumps back into the car and sets off down the drive. Clipping the mobile phone into the holder on the dashboard, he calls Ji.

  ‘Freddie’s OK,’ he says, checking the rearview mirror. ‘He’s back with us.’

  ‘That’s not possible,’ Ji says. ‘He’s in the van. And I thought you’d be following by now. They’ve got a camera on the tailgate as well as the dashcam.’

  ‘Clio didn’t take Freddie. She left him outside the gates and brought him a puppy.’

  ‘A puppy?’

  ‘Long story.’

  ‘On the live feed everyone thinks that Freddie’s still in the van, that he’s been kidnapped. They’re now bidding on what to do with him.’

  ‘Well let the sick fucks continue to think that,’ Adam says, shaking his head. Who are these people? ‘For whatever reason, Clio’s gone off script,’ he continues. ‘Freddie’s fine. Safe. And I’ve chucked the Ferrari into the bushes. As long as they don’t have any other devices in the house, we have an advantage.’

  ‘You need to turn left at the end of the drive, and head up to the Salisbury road, then turn right towards Burbage. Take the first left at the roundabout to Collingbourne Ducis.’

  How does Ji know how to pronounce it ‘doo-cis’? Even locals get it wrong. He pushes the thought away. ‘Am I right to be going after her, Ji?’ Adam asks. Should he have stayed back at the house, with Tania and the kids?

  ‘It keeps Freddie safe,’ Ji says. ‘They would expect you to follow the van if everyone thinks your five-year-old son’s in it. Several people have already asked why you aren’t following him. I think they’re expecting a car chase. It would explain the cameras at the back and front of the van. Every game has a good car chase.’

  ‘This isn’t a game, Ji.’

  ‘It is for these people.’

  ‘Where is she now?’ Adam asks.

  ‘Tidworth.’

  ‘I’ll catch her up.’

  ‘I don’t understand why she didn’t take Freddie,’ Ji says.

  ‘Me neither, Ji.’

  ‘Very unorthodox gameplay.’

  ‘One way of putting it.’

  ‘There’s something else you should know,’ Ji says.

  ‘Go on.’

  It’s been reassuring to have Ji watching over him on his laptop, but Adam doesn’t like the new tone of voice.

  ‘Someone’s just bid on a car crash,’ Ji says.

  Adam’s hands tighten on the steering wheel. That’s all he needs. ‘Fatal?’ he asks, glancing in his mirrors again.

  ‘Life-changing injuries.’ Just like the live stream of the man in Warsaw.

  ‘Where’s this game heading, Ji?’

  ‘Hard to tell. But the risk is now too high for you to continue to follow Clio in the van.’

  ‘I have to finish this. For my family. Are you certain there are no live images coming from the house – of Tania and the kids?’

  ‘Nothing. They liked your father-in-law taking out the drone with a shotgun, but they’ve lost interest in them. You’re centre stage now.’

  Just where Louis wants him. At least his family is safe.

  ‘And there’s no live stream from my car?’

  ‘Not that I can see. Just dash- and rear cams on the van. She’s driving fast. High audience approval. I’m going down to be with Tania in the house.’

  Adam has to trust his friend. He’s got no option. Putting his foot down too, he turns onto the Fair Mile, accelerating up the old Roman road. It’s a shortcut that will gain him five minutes on Clio and bring him out in Collingbourne Ducis.

  It’s not until Adam joins the A303, on the other side of Tidworth, that he finally catches sight of the van, half a mile in front of him, heading west. There aren’t many other cars on the road and its familiar profile is briefly lit up in the darkness by a passing car. Adam knows this stretch of road well as it’s the one he takes when they go to Cornwall. Where’s Clio heading?

  Glancing at the time – 11 p.m. – he phones Ji and asks if he’s with Tania yet. He doesn’t want to risk calling on her burner.

  Ji passes Tania his phone.

  ‘How are the kids?’ he asks.

  ‘They’re fine. We might have to keep the puppy,’ she says. ‘He’s adorable. Where are you?’

  ‘Approaching Stonehenge.’

  ‘You should turn around. Come home.’

  ‘I can’t. If I do, they’ll come after me. I need to make this stop.’ Or at least draw them away from his family.

  ‘Ji’s taking good care of us,’ Tania says.

  Adam should be reassured that Ji is with his family, but he still can’t shake off an unfathomable feeling of doubt.

  ‘He also says that’s exactly what they want you to do: follow the van,’ she adds.

  ‘I know.’

  ‘As soon as you’ve got the number plate, we need to ring the police again.’