On their return from a weekend away Mike Chalmers and his fiancé, Louise Milne, make a stop at a motorway service station. While Mike waits in the car Louise enters the service station, and vanishes.

While Mike searches for Louise he discovers a small amount of blood in the ladies toilets. His concern turns to panic; convinced that Louise has been harmed by an unknown assailant he seeks help from a security guard. The police are called.

Detectives Jennifer Paterson and David McCormack are called to the scene. When they meet Mike Chalmers for the first time he is utterly distraught. Convinced that his fiancé has been kidnapped, he begs them to find her. The search begins.

As Jen and Dave investigate what appears, at first, to be a simple case of abduction; they begin to discover that there is more to this case that first meets the eye. They discover that, despite the perfect picture of happiness painted by Mike, his relationship with Louise was emotionally and psychically volatile; and through information gleaned from friends and family they begin to peace together a broader picture of events.

Mike’s emotional and psychological state deteriorates slowly but surely. He becomes withdrawn and paranoid.

After 48 hours there is still no trace of Louise Milne, despite police appeals for information. The CCTV footage from the motorway service station has been reviewed and no visual trace of Louise was found. The blood found at the scene has been analysed and compared to DNA from Louise’s brother David; it doesn’t match.

The likelihood that someone had the means to tamper with the hours of footage seems remote. The two detectives begin to doubt Mike’s version of events, but he is adamant that he watched his fiancé walk into the service station; he is adamant that she has been kidnapped; and as time slowly ticks away he becomes certain that Louise will not be found alive.

Jen and Dave are aware that Mike’s emotional state is becoming increasingly unstable; and that if they have any hope of discovering the true fate of Louise, they must play a psychological game of cat and mouse.

A man out walking his dog comes across Louise’s body; she has been strangled and dumped in a small wooded area four miles from the motorway service station. Forensic evidence found at the scene forces the detectives to confront Mike with the facts. As they do his psychological state crumbles and he is forced to face the shocking truth of what really happened to Louise; a truth that threatens his life, his freedom and his sanity.

Chapter One

Where was she?!

He looked at the clock on the dashboard. 11.13pm; It was getting late.

Mike sat heavy eyed behind the wheel of his car, engine running, hypnotized by the steady swish, slap of the windscreen wipers. The rain was hammering down, bouncing upward from the soaked tarmac in wide arcs.

From where he was sitting he could see the entrance to the ladies toilets. What time had they arrived? He worked it out…it must have been around 11pm.

Wriggling down in his seat and sighing he stared out at the motorway service station. The steady downpour made everything look bleak and miserable. He rubbed harshly at his eyes, longing for a hot shower and bed.

He glanced at the clock again. 11.15pm.

He was starting to get a little pissed off now. What the hell was she doing? He knew he was being grumpy but who wouldn’t be after a 4-hour drive? They were only 20 minutes from home for God’s sake! Wishing Louise had just crossed her legs that little bit longer he sighed again.


Mike had met Louise through friends about 2years ago and fell for her petite good looks, expressive hazel eyes and auburn hair straight away. She, on the other hand, had taken some convincing. Mike was an arrogant, self-important snob in her opinion and she took great pleasure in telling him this when they first met. Later, Louise admitted to him that she had refused to acknowledge that she was even remotely attracted to this blond haired, blue-eyed egotist. Mike was good looking, he knew it, she knew it, everyone knew it; and during his early twenties he had given himself a bit of a name as a ladies man. The last thing Louise wanted was to become involved with a man like that. So she told herself she didn’t find him attractive in the slightest…he was bad news.

It had taken over a year to convince her to go on a date with him. She finally relented, mainly to get him to stop asking. To their mutual surprise they had a wonderful time together. They realised they shared many of the same opinions, but differed just enough to make conversation interesting. They liked the same type of music, disliked the same type of people; Louise came to realise that he wasn’t at all like she had first thought.

Times were good, sex was great and they couldn’t get enough of each other.

She moved in after 6months. They got engaged after a year. Mike had never been so happy.

This past weekend had been good. The two of them had been meaning to get away for far too long. Mike’s parents lived up north and it had seemed like a good idea at the time to drive the 250 miles to their home in the country to spend a bit of quality time together.

Louise had been working far too hard recently, the pressure of unreachable targets and a stressful job making her tense and unhappy. They needed this break away from things.

The weather had been cold but fine and they had spent the weekend taking long walks on the beach wrapped in winter coats, nursing pints in the local pub and talking about their future.

His parents were delighted to see them, as his Mum had reminded him; it had been far too long since she had seen her only son. Jean Chalmers spent Saturday and Sunday indulgently spoiling her son, cooking his favourite meals, pulling out dusty albums of baby pictures and embarrassing him with some of his more humiliating teenage moments. Paul Chalmers had spent the time flirting shamelessly with Louise and showing Mike some of his latest DIY disasters. Mike could never understand his Dad’s insistence that he do anything DIY related around the house, it was obvious that he was completely useless and his ‘projects’ had become something of a family joke.

Leaving had been hard. Each time he promised himself he would visit more regularly, each time it was longer and longer between his trips home.

Making a mental note to phone his Mum in the morning to arrange another visit he rummaged in the glove compartment for a packet of chewing gum. Tearing it out of the wrapper, he shoved it in his mouth and began to chew impatiently.

There was still no sign of Louise.

The lights from the service station reflected across the deserted car park, creating a luminescent sea of puddles. The wind was sweeping rain across the empty spaces, blurring the outline of the buildings and buffeting the car in violent gusts. This late on a Sunday night and all the sensible people were at home. Regretting not taking Monday off work after all, Mike checked the clock again. The illuminated digits indicated that it was now 11.17pm.

Shivering he turned up the heat. The windows had begun to steam up. Making an attempt to wipe the condensation from the windscreen only succeeded in blurring his view of the entrance, his hand creating a multi-coloured confusion of water and light. Grabbing his mobile from its cradle, Mike thumbed the first number on speed dial. The handbag on the passenger seat next to him vibrated with a low buzz.

“Shit!”

Banging his fists on the steering wheel he turned off the ignition. As he flung himself out of
the car the wind caught the door, tearing it from his hands and throwing rain into his eyes. He was immediately soaked. His hair clinging to his head in freezing clumps as he sprinted through the puddles towards the entrance.

He stood dripping and panting for a moment just inside the automatic doors. Walking forward they slid shut behind him, cutting out the noise of the drumming rain and roaring wind. The service station looked closed for the night and, apart from the chattering of his teeth and a steady, untraceable hum, it seemed silent and deserted. He shook himself off like a dog, shivering miserably he thought angrily of his coat on the back seat of the car.

Brushing his soaking hair from his eyes, he squelched wetly towards the ladies toilets. From here he could see that the door was standing slightly ajar, a thin chink of light escaping.

“Louise?”

His voice sounded too loud in the empty hall. Glancing over his shoulder, he checked to make sure he was alone. The last thing he needed was some over zealous ‘wanna-be-cop’ thinking he was prowler, or a thief.

“Lou? What the hell are you doing?” He knocked loudly on the door.

There was no reply.

“Look, I’m soaked, freezing and starting to get just a little pissed off! It doesn’t take 20minutes to take a pee does it?”
Drumming his fingers tips on the door he looked around again. He could see a security camera above the entrance door and hesitated. Then, sure the security guards would be following his every move, he pushed the door open.

The ladies toilets were a monotonously white painted room with no windows. At least 20 cubicles were lined along the left and right walls with a central area for sinks and hand driers. Walking in, Mike caught his reflection in the line of mirrors to his right. His face appeared bleached, an unhealthy greyish ting around his cheeks made him look gaunt and ill. He hated toilet lighting; it always made you look like crap. His hair was still plastered to his head and, running his fingers through it, he attempted to bring a little normality back into the life-less strands.

“Lou, babes? We really ought to be heading home.” He said, talking to his own reflection whilst fixing his hair.

“It’s late and I’ve got work in the morning.” Mike glanced around. Still there was no reply. His irritation turned to concern. Was she ill?

“Lou? Honey? What’s wrong? Are you sick or something?” Still no reply.

He began checking the cubicles. As he banged open each door, panic began to rise in his throat like bile. She wasn’t there. Bang. Where was she? Bang! Where the hell was she? Bang!
The toilets were empty. Louise wasn’t there.

Chapter Two

Mike couldn’t understand it. She must be in here. He called her name again and again, knowing that she wasn’t. He fruitlessly searched every cubicle again, making sure she wasn’t hiding behind one of the doors.

“Louise! Where are you?!”

She must have gone looking for a drink; a snack; a magazine; anything. But he had been watching the doors the entire time! He would have seen her come out, wouldn’t he?! He bolted for the door but slipped and landed flat on his backside with a little grunt of surprise. Struggling to his feet he looked down at a small puddle of drying blood, now smeared into a long oval by his foot.

The panic that had been simmering erupted from somewhere deep in his chest and he began shouting her name as he leapt for the door.

“Louise?! LOUISE?!!!”

He tore through the door, down the hallway and into the main entrance. He stood panting, his heart pounding loudly in his ears, and scanned the area.

Nothing.

Silence.

He ran for the doors and as they slid open, raced back out into the rain. He shouted her name over and over, his voice sounding muffled by the steady torrent of rain.

Maybe he’d missed her somehow? Maybe she was sitting waiting for him in the car? Panting he reached the passenger door and wrenched it open. There was her handbag, still sitting on the passenger seat. He spilled the contents on to the cushion and riffled through the pile of pens, lipstick, mints and tampons; grabbing her mobile phone he checked the display. One missed call; his number. Dropping her phone he reached across and grabbed his own from its cradle on the dashboard. No missed calls; the time display read 11.36pm. Shoving the phone into his soaked trouser pocket he turned to search the car park.

Even with his hand shielding his eyes he could see only vague shapes through the torrential rain. There was one other car in the car park. A dark blue, dented Fiesta was huddled against the side of building. The car was parked close to a small, metal door set into the wall, a delivery entrance perhaps?

Mike sloshed towards it, his legs and feet now so wet and cold he barely noticed the ankle deep puddles as he splashed through them. Leaning his hands against the soaking glass he peered into the car. It was empty. Empty fast food wrappers, cans and bottles littered the floor. A waterproof was flung across the backseat. The rain was cascading down the window in steady streams, catching his hands, running in between his fingers and down his wrists.

Pausing there a moment, with rain trickling down his arms like icy fingers, he tried to think. A logical explanation, there was no need to panic. Taking steady, slow breaths against the cold chill that was trying to seep into his chest he tried to convince himself that there was nothing to be concerned about. She’d been taken ill, had a nose bleed – yeah that would explain the blood. She’d gone looking for help.

It didn’t work. Why wouldn’t she come to him? If she was ill he would help her, there was no reason to look for anyone else.

She was gone. But she wouldn’t just walk away without telling him first – she couldn’t. Someone must have taken her!

Dread was a steady, throbbing knot in his chest. With water dripping into his eyes and from the tip of his nose, he pushed himself away from the car and made towards the metal door. He knocked loudly, the door vibrating on its rusting hinges. There was no reply. He hammered on the door again; there had to be someone who could help him! He finally heard distant footsteps from within, boots on metal steps; someone was there after all. The door creaked open slightly.

A short, balding, middle-aged man with beady eyes peered out at Mike over glasses that hung precariously from the end of his nose.

“What’s your problem then pal?! What’s all the noise about?” Mike made a move to push past the man and into the building.

“Oh no you don’t! This is private property; you can’t just barge in here!”

Behind the man Mike could just make out a small set of metal steps leading upwards, at the top he could see a door, it’s frosted glass window lit brightly.

“Have you seen her?!” The man peering around the door blinked uncomprehendingly and pushed his glasses further up his nose.

“Seen who? What you going on about?” Rain dripped into Mike’s eyes; wiping his face roughly with his hands he took a deep breath.

“Look, can I please just step in out of the rain. I need your help.”

Sighing, the man took a step backwards, allowing Mike just enough room to push past and into the corridor behind. Closing the door the man turned to look at him. Mike noticed the security badge on the breast pocket of his blue uniform and breathed a sigh of relief. The name stitched below the badge read ‘Stuart’.

“Thank God there’s someone here! I don’t understand it! I can’t find her anywhere, have you seen her?”

Stuart, the security guard, blinked again and, nervously rubbed his hand against a rough, stubble covered chin.

“What do you mean, she’s gone? Who’s that then? Your wife? Done a runner has she? You two had a fight?” Shaking his head, and sending drops of water cascading in all directions, Mike continued insistently.

“No! She’s my partner…my fiancé… and she’s gone. I watched her walk into the main entrance from the car…I’ve checked the toilets and there’s no sign of her…but there’s blood…” The words caught in his throat. Swallowing he tried again.

“Look, I’m sorry but I really need your help. I think something has happened to her.”

The security guard frowned and then sighed. He reached for a large, waterproof coat with the security company’s logo stencilled on the back which was hanging on a hook by the door and gestured towards Mike.

“You’d better show me what you’re talking about”.

--*--

In the main building Mike led the way back down the corridor to the ladies toilets, the door was standing open, with a large dent in the wall behind it from where Mike had thrown it open in such a hurry.

“Well, you’ll have to pay for that for a start!” Stuart pulled a small notebook and pencil from his back pocket and scribbled something eligible. Mike ignored him and stood pointing at the smeared blood on the tiled floor.

“There!” The guard pushed his glasses further up his nose again and peered at the blood on the floor.

“And you haven’t seen her since when?” Mike was starting to get irritated with the guard’s apparent lack of concern.

“We arrived around 11pm, she nipped into the ladies and I haven’t seen her since…look this is ridiculous…shouldn’t you be calling someone right now?” The guard was walking from cubicle to cubicle checking under the doors.

“Well now, there’s no need to panic just now is there? Maybe you guys had a fight? She’s stormed off in a huff – probably hitched a ride home and is tucked up in bed right now. Perhaps you should check there first?”

Grabbing the man by the shoulders, Mike shook him roughly.

“No!” He yelled into his face

“She’s gone! She was here – but she isn’t now! There was no fight, someone has taken her!”

Shocked, Stuart pushed himself away from Mike and held up his hands defensively.

“Hey! There’s no need to get like that! I’m trying to help you here!”

Mike suddenly slumped to the floor. Grabbing his head, he twisted his fingers into his hair and pulled sharply, a low moan escaping from between his gritted teeth. Squeezing his eyes shut he fought for breath as panic threatening to over whelm him. Then he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Look Pal, you’d better come with me, eh? You’re soaking wet and in a bit of state aren’t you?” Peering up at the guard from between his fingers Mike could see that he was becoming unnerved.

“We’ll get you a nice hot drink and warm you up a bit. Maybe you could call home and check she’s not there?” Nodding numbly Mike staggered to his feet. He suddenly felt icy cold and completely exhausted. Silently, he followed the guard back out into the rain.

Chapter Three

Detective David McCormack dropped the remains of his burger onto its wrapper and grabbed the phone with greasy fingers.

“What?” He demanded gruffly with his mouth full. J

amming the phone between his shoulder and his ear he reached for a pen, searching for a bit of paper he scribbled something down.

“Right, Ok, I got it. Yup, bye.”

Stuffing the remains of his burger into his mouth he grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and slung it over his shoulder. Making his way over to the desk adjacent to his own he nudged his snoozing partner.

Detective Jennifer Paterson was sprawled back in her chair, her feet propped up on her desk and her mouth open. The nudge got no response so Dave roughly pushed his partner’s feet off the desk. Jen’s eyes snapped open in surprise.

“Come on Paterson, get up! You’re going to have to do some work for a change.”

Ignoring Dave McCormack’s not so subtle insult, Jen struggled sleepily to her feet, yawning widely. Pulling her jacket from the back of her seat, she slung it over her shoulder.

“What have we got then?” She asked, regarding her partner as he struggled into his large rain coat.

At 40, with shortly cropped, greying hair, Dave McCormack had the gruff good looks of a man who tried his best to look after himself; but found that time, and life, was beginning to take its toll. Dave’s wife had often said that wrinkles were like lines in a book; they told you things about a person and made them all the more interesting to read. Dave didn’t believe it then, and he still didn’t believe it now. Wrinkles meant you were getting old, plain and simple. Dave McCormack didn’t hold much sway with all that romantic bullshit.

If what the WPC on the phone had said was true, a domestic at a motorway service station was the last thing he wanted to deal with this early on a Monday morning. He swore under his breath as he glanced as his watch, it was 1.15am. He hated night duty!

Sighing he ran over the facts with Jen.

An irate young man was claiming his girlfriend had gone missing. Probably a domestic but the security guard had found blood in the ladies toilets where she had last been seen. Not a lot of blood but the girl was no where to be found, that in itself warranted enough suspicion to call in the police.

Heading towards the car park he called over his shoulder.

“I’m driving Paterson.” J

en rolled her eyes as she made to follow her partner downstairs.

“You always drive” She mumbled sleepily.

“That’s because I’m better at it” Dave remarked over his shoulder.

Jen smiled to herself as she followed him down the corridor.

Jennifer Paterson had worked with Dave McCormack for three years and she still didn’t really know him. Dave tried to keep himself to himself, keeping his personal life personal and sharing nothing with his partner that didn’t relate to the job.

It was no secret that his wife had left him 6months ago. Office rumour was rife and Jen had a hard time listening to the crude jokes about why she had left him, either sexual or to do with the fact that Dave McCormack was black.

Jen still found it hard to believe how common racism was within the force. Her partner was gruff but one of the best policemen Jen had worked with, although she had only joined the force a relatively short eight years ago. Dave could be unpleasant and rude, but he got the job done, and done well.

It had been tough to begin with. Jen had been fast tracked through the ranks due to her university degree and the other PCs had obviously resented that. Jen smiled to herself, remembering the crude attempts her fellow officers had made to make her feel unwelcome. She’d learnt quickly to do as Dave did; come to work, do your job, go home, don’t let it bother you; or at least don’t let them see that it bothered you.

When she’d first met Dave three years ago she had been a naïve and excited 26 years old. Tall, good looking, with short, messy dark brown hair and brooding hazel eyes, she had found it difficult to fit in at first; finding her new partner’s negative outlook on life difficult to understand and even harder to work with on a regular basis. Now, at 29 and with a bit more experience behind her, she had learnt the rules and the two of them had developed a friendly dislike for each other. Jen and Dave worked well together, with an unspoken understanding that nothing was personal; it was all part of the job. Jen was sure that her partner’s dedication to the job was the reason his marriage fell apart; but even after three years she still didn’t have the guts to ask.

They had reached the front desk; Dave gestured to the PC sitting at reception and the young man pushed a folder and a set of keys in his direction. Signing the relevant form Dave motioned outside.

“You got a brolly then Paterson?”

Shaking her head Jen looked out at the torrential rain in dismay.

“Well, it looks like we’ll be swimming to the car then doesn’t it?”

--*--

Mike clutched his fourth cup of coffee.

He could feel the chill from his earlier soaking still coursing through his veins; and no amount of hot coffee seemed to help. He was wrapped in the security guard’s large coat, his soaking jeans drying on a nearby radiator, along with his trainers and socks.

Sipping at the coffee he grimaced, it was bitter and stewed but hot; so hot that each time he took a mouthful it stung the roof of his mouth and made his tongue tingle. Sniffing miserably, snot threatening to leak from his red raw nose, he studied the room for what must have been the hundredth time. What could be taking them so long?

The office was surprisingly big. Two large, cluttered desks were pushed against the right wall; the pin-boards above them decorated in a collage of paper, photos, cards and other personal items. Next to the telephone on one desk rested a photograph of two boys, framed in cheap plastic. They were smiling and posing with their arms flung around each other’s necks. The security guard’s family perhaps? Mike studied their happy faces for a minute, basking briefly in the smiling innocence that beamed out at him, and then moved on to study the rest of the room.

Along the left wall was a bank of five monitors, each screen showing a different view of the service station and car park. Mike could see his car, sitting alone and silent, with the torrential rain still battering its hood and front bonnet. He scanned each image for any sign of Louise, knowing by now that he was wasting his time.

“How are you doing pal?” The security guard, Stuart, entered through the door towards the rear of the office, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose nervously.

Mike could hear the muted sounds of a television through the half closed door.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come and sit in the den? It’s more comfortable in there, there’s a couch and a TV. Might take your mind of things?” Mike shook his head.

“No, I’m fine here. Thanks.” Shrugging Stuart turned back towards the flicking light of the television.

“Suit yourself.”

Setting his cup down on the nearest desk Mike got up to check his clothes. Padding over towards the radiator in his bare feet he felt ridiculous. Here he was, in some stranger’s office, half naked in the early hours of Monday morning. His girlfriend was missing.

Louise was missing.

“Missing”

He kept saying it to himself, over and over, each time hoping that he could make some sense of the word.

“Missing”

It just wouldn’t sink in. The whole situation had the clichéd feel of a bad dream. Knowing it was impossible; Mike couldn’t stop himself hoping that he would wake up soon, wake up in his own bed with Louise’s familiar warmth nestled against him.

His trousers were still wet, drying slowly on a luke-warm radiator; and his trainers were ruined. Shivering he clutched the coat closer and ambled over towards the bank of monitors.

In the middle monitor he noticed a car pulling into a parking space near the dark, blue fiesta. The front doors opened and Mike watched as two figures stepped out into the rain.

It was difficult to make them out through the torrential rain that was still beating the ground in heavy torrents. One figure, shorter and stockier than the other, appeared to indicate towards the small metal door that led into the office. The taller figure jogged nimbly through the puddles towards it and Mike heard the muffled bang, bang as the figure knocked on the door.

“Shit!” He heard Stuart scrambled to his feet and the TV was silenced.

He walked quickly into the office, straightening his uniform and grabbed a hat from one of the desks. Jamming the cap on his head he motioned to Mike.

“That’ll be the police. Just you wait there ok?”

Chapter Four

Dave and Jen both huddled as close to the door as they could, Dave impatiently tapping his fingers on the rusting metal of the security office door.

Even with heavy raincoats on, they were both getting soaked.

Jen thought longingly of her husband as rain dripped off the end of her nose. He was probably snuggled in bed, his face set in that concentrated frown he always wore when he slept. Thinking of his familiar, soothing warmth Jen sighed.

“What a miserable night eh?” She offered, grimacing as a drop of water found its way between the folds of her raincoat and began to trickle down her back.

Dave only grunted in reply. Finally they heard signs of movement from within and the door was pulled open sharply.

Without pausing the two of them strode straight in out of the rain, causing the security guard to stumble backwards as he was pushed aside. Shaking herself off, Jen looked at the nervous security guard, noting the name stitched into the breast pocket she stuck out her hand.

“Detective Paterson, and this is my partner Detective McCormack. Stuart is it?”

The short, be-speckled security guard nodded nervously, his eyes shifting between the two newcomers.

“Well? Can you tell us a little about what’s been happening here Mr…?”

Stuart turned an uncomfortable shade of pink and stuttered

“Menzies, its Stuart Menzies.”

By now Jen was used the uncomfortable silence that followed her everywhere she went. She was accustomed to the abrupt end to conversations upon her entrance and had actually started to enjoy the effect her presence had on people. She liked the fact that people found what she did for a living intimidating; proving that first appearances were often deceptive. She’d lost count of the amount of times she’s been approached in bars or clubs whilst out with friends by smart business types who, on finding out what she did for a living, had made their excuses, and a sharp exit. Even in today’s modern society the majority of men still found powerful, confident women intimidating. Smiling inwardly she noted the light beading of sweat along the security guard’s receding hairline and wondered what it was he had to hide.

“Well Mr Menzies, if you’d just like to start from the beginning please…”

--*--

It was the woman who had introduced herself first. Introducing herself as Detective Something-or-other and indicating her frowning partner, whose name Stuart didn’t catch either.

She held out her hand. Stuart shook it limply and nervously licked his lips. The older, black Detective did not offer his hand.

After telling the Detectives his full name he began to hesitantly explain what he knew, which wasn’t a hell of a lot in his opinion. He indicated the upstairs office.

“He’s in there. He banged on my door around 11.30pm I think…convinced his girl’s been snatched…not sure what to make of it myself.” The woman nodded her head.

Stuart couldn’t help himself and glanced her up and down, taking in the shape of her breasts underneath her raincoat. She was nice looking, for a copper.

“We were told you had found blood in the ladies toilets, is that right?” Jen interrupted his thoughts.

Wiping his forehead, and then wiping his hand on his trouser leg nervously Stuart wished he hadn't agreed to cover Graeme’s shift tonight. He nodded his head.

“Yeah, that’s right…not a lot mind you…looks like someone had a nose bleed if you ask me.” The male detective snorted, Stuart didn't like the look of that one.

The woman detective smiled warmly at him.

“You’d better lead the way then.”

--*--

Mike waited anxiously inside the office. He heard the brief murmur of conversation, then the sound of footsteps on the stairs. He impatiently watched the door, his hands twisting the folds of the guard’s coat.

Stuart was the first to enter the room, closely followed by two police officers, one male and one female. Pausing to look at Mike sympathetically, Stuart scurried quickly towards the back room, and into the ‘Den’, as he had called it. Turning briefly to them he said

“I’ll be in here if you need me, there’s plenty of coffee if you want some.” He indicated the coffee pot in the corner.

Receiving no reply he turned and, with obvious relief, closed the door behind him, leaving Mike alone with the two police officers.

He looked at them both with relief and gratitude. Forgetting about his lack of trousers and socks, he got to his feet and held out his hand.

When he opened his mouth he fully intended to explain the situation slowly and calmly, instead he let out a strangled sob and burst into tears. Horrified and embarrassed he turned away.

Slumping down in a chair he buried his head in his hands and watched as his tears plopped soundlessly onto the grubby, thread-bare carpet. Attempting to regain control, Mike lifted his head and blinked at them apologetically.

“I’m sorry…I don’t mean to cry…I just…can’t believe this is happening…”

Mike lowered his head again and took a deep breath. He heard the sound of movement on the carpeted floor; then felt the weight of the man’s hand on his shoulder. Raising his head he found the woman sitting beside him, looking at him with concern. Smiling sympathetically, she introduced herself.

“I’m Detective Jennifer Paterson. This is my partner Detective McCormack” The older man only nodded in his direction.

“You must be Mike…I didn’t catch your last name.”

Mike tried to gulp back his tears and get control of himself.

“Chalmers, its Mike Chalmers.”

Jen held out her hand; Mike shook it warily, not really sure how he was expected to react.

“You feel calm enough to answer some questions Mike?” Slapping at the tears still leaking from the corner of his eyes Mike took a deep, shuddering breath and nodded.

“Let’s start from the beginning then shall we?”