‘Christ, you look rough,’ Taylor observed, looking Justin over as he came into the station reception area.

‘You need to talk to someone,’ Justin said, dragging his hands up over his face, exhausted and disorientated from endless hours spent searching for Sophie. He’d crawled the streets, checked shop doorways and car parks, trawled shopping precincts, and all the while, he hadn’t been able to shake the thought rattling around in his head: tall and dark. That fitted Radley’s description. He told himself he was being paranoid, counting how many tall, dark men he saw as he walked, but after his conversation with Alicia, he wanted Radley checked out. The man’s interest, which he hadn’t even tried to hide, was obviously more in Alicia than Sophie, but Justin needed to be sure he’d had no contact with her. He wanted the fucker out of his life, which might never happen, unless Justin did something about it. Sophie was his daughter. In his heart, he didn’t need any proof of that. On paper, though… he had to do something about that. Go to the hospital and get the test organised. Today. Whatever the outcome, he would fight to make sure he stayed part of her life. He’d file for custody if he had to. First, though, he had to find her. He would find her.

Justin took a breath, knowing that what he was about to say might give Taylor more reason to class Sophie a low-risk runaway. It was possible that Radley had had no contact with her, but if he had any information regarding her whereabouts whatsoever, then Justin had to take that chance. ‘Paul Radley, the man who was at our house on the day of the break-in, he and Alicia, they…’ He faltered, the words sticking in his throat. ‘They had an affair.’

Taylor’s eyes widened.

‘Years ago,’ Justin went on, awkwardly, ‘around the time Sophie was conceived.’

‘Ah.’ Taylor’s brow furrowed in consternation. ‘You’d better come through.’ He gestured for the PC behind the desk to release the security door. ‘So, am I to assume there’s some doubt around her parentage?’ he asked, leading Justin through to his office and nodding him towards a visitor’s chair before seating himself at his desk.

Justin declined the invitation to take a seat. He was so wound up, he was finding it difficult to stand still, let alone sit. ‘Possibly,’ he said carefully. There was no way he wanted Taylor privy to the information about the test, which might sway his thinking in regard to whatever rights Radley had. ‘Alicia and I haven’t really… Look, I don’t know for sure, okay? For Christ’s sake, do you need the details? Can you not just send someone to his—’

‘Slow down, Justin,’ Taylor interrupted. ‘Take a breath and explain slowly. I can’t do anything until I have the facts.’

Justin sighed agitatedly. ‘You have them. There’s a possibility Sophie might not be mine. This guy turns up out of the blue and—’

‘He’s had no previous contact with Sophie then?’

‘As far as I know, no. Jesus, what does it matter?’ Justin snapped. ‘My concern is that he might be in contact with her now.’

Taylor looked puzzled. ‘Have you spoken to Alicia about this?’

Justin’s frustration, which was already way off the scale, multiplied tenfold. ‘Not in great detail, no. It’s a little difficult, as you might imagine.’

Picking up his pen, Taylor began tapping it repeatedly on his desk, which was immensely annoying. ‘Do you think he might have taken her?’

Kneading his forehead, Justin sighed heavily. ‘I don’t know,’ he said exasperatedly. ‘His interest seems to be more in my wife.’

Taylor stopped tapping. ‘And was Sophie aware of this, shall we say, dilemma?’

‘Yes,’ Justin said, guilt rising him. ‘She overheard me talking to Alicia’s sister.’

Taylor nodded slowly. ‘So, if Sophie is in contact with this… Paul Radley… it would be of her own volition?’

Justin clenched his teeth hard. ‘Yes, of her own volition,’ he said. ‘The point is, he might well know something about her whereabouts.’

Again, Taylor nodded. ‘And the address?’ he asked, poised to put his pen to its proper use.

‘Christ almighty! I don’t know! If I did, I wouldn’t be here, would I?’

‘I see.’ Taylor downed his pen and laced his hands in front of him. ‘So, let me get this straight. According to what you’ve told me, it would appear that, if Sophie has had any contact with Mr Radley, it would be willingly. Do you agree?’

‘Willingly?’ Justin eyed him incredulously. ‘He’s had nothing to do with her! Played no part in her life whatsoever. He doesn’t give a damn about her. If he has been in contact with her, it’s part of his plan to get to Alicia. I simply need to know whether he’s heard from her, so I can get my daughter back. What part of this don’t you get?’

Obviously unimpressed by the outburst of temper, Taylor glanced down at his desk and shuffled around some paperwork. ‘How old is Sophie, Justin?’ he asked.

Immediately realising the significance of that question, Justin felt his heart go into freefall. Neither he nor Alicia had mentioned it when they’d spoken, but he hadn’t doubted that his wife would have been thinking exactly what he was: that the milestone that marked Sophie’s sixteenth birthday tomorrow would carry their daughter further away from them, that she might always remain low priority to everyone but them. Unless something happened to her, of course, and the worst-case scenario that had been haunting Justin day and night came to pass. Then they would mobilise all available bodies, or whatever it was police did when there was a real crime to solve. Someone raped and strangled, bludgeoned or knifed to death. Then they would cordon off areas, go house to house, investigate – while he buried another child.

Justin felt a cold shiver run through him. He didn’t answer Taylor’s question.

‘A man eliciting contact with his sixteen-year-old daughter isn’t a criminal offence, Justin,’ Taylor said regretfully.

Justin swallowed back a tight lump in his throat. ‘And if he’s not her father?’

‘We don’t know, though, do we?’ Taylor pointed out, confirming what Justin had already concluded: that they were going to do absolutely nothing. ‘If he’s had contact with her and he’s not, obviously we will want to speak to him,’ he went on, his expression now apologetic, as if impelling Justin to understand his hands were tied. ‘But there’s nothing we can do without proof of parentage, other than make a general enquiry. Not unless Sophie herself actually comes forward with a complaint. I’m sorry.’

‘Right. Well.’ Justin shook his head, disbelieving. ‘Thanks for your help, Detective Inspector.’

‘Justin…’ Taylor called after him, as Justin strode furiously towards the door. ‘Dr Cole! Don’t do anything rash.’