After an early start from their hotel and some time spent getting the necessary clearance for their enquiries from the Garda, it was almost one by the time Lockett and George completed their drive through Ireland.

‘We’re getting close now,’ Lockett said as the sign welcomed them to the city of Cork. ‘You’d better help me with directions. I’m rubbish in busy traffic, always end up in the wrong lane.’

The residential home where the grandparents now lived was a modern two-storey building on the outskirts of Cork, set in lovely landscaped gardens – all gravel and grasses, rockeries and shapely trees, which looked good even in winter. They were shown into a spacious lounge where an elderly couple sat together in a large bay window. They seemed a little confused as to who the British cops were, and after half an hour of cryptic answers to straightforward questions, Lockett decided they should leave them in peace.

George looked a bit downcast as they got into the car, because it was his research that had led them to the home. ‘I hope I haven’t wasted our time.’ He looked anxiously at Lockett.

She gave him a smile. ‘Well, we know all about the lovely holiday our elderly couple had in the Lake District in 1964, but that’s about it. Couldn’t get a straight answer to anything, could we? They wouldn’t even confirm if they still owned their previous address. I know it’s still registered to them, but property sales take a while to get updated on the land register sometimes. And I suppose if they have moved into a home, they might be renting it out.’

They mulled over the different scenarios.

‘Right,’ Lockett said as they set off. ‘Now we’re here, let’s visit the address where the old folks used to live. It’s as good a starting point as any.’

The property was easy to find, standing on its own on the outskirts of a village, surrounded by fields. There was a car outside, washing on the line and four children of assorted ages playing in a field next to the house.

George frowned and checked the address again, to make sure he’d got it right. ‘This is it. Is there somewhere we can pull over?’

Lockett parked a little way up the road next to a derelict cottage and they got out, walking back towards the house, George using binoculars to get a better look. He watched the children, a smile growing on his face. He recognised two of those faces, faces he thought he’d never see in person after he’d found the bloodstained clothes in the binbag. He passed the binoculars to Lockett. ‘Have a look.’

She adjusted the focus and scanned the field where the children were kicking a football. ‘It’s them, isn’t it?’ She was grinning. ‘We’ve only bloody found them, haven’t we?’

‘I don’t know who the other kids are. Friends, maybe?’

Lockett thought for a moment. ‘Didn’t the Welsh force say that the rest of the family had disappeared? Maybe they all decided to do a runner? Anyway, looks like everyone’s home. Let’s pay them a visit.’

When they rapped on the door a young woman opened it, wiping her hands on her apron. Her face fell when she saw them.

‘Oh, hello,’ Lockett said, all jolly. ‘Um, I was wanting to see Luke Roberts. Is he home?’

‘No, he’s…’ The woman stopped herself, her eyes widening before her face hardened into a deep frown. ‘I don’t know who you’re talking about.’ She gave them a tight smile. ‘I’m sorry, you must have the wrong address.’ And with that, she shut the door in their faces.

After a moment’s silence, Lockett signalled to George that they should go back to the car.

‘Well, that says it all,’ she said, getting back in the driver’s seat. ‘Look no further. The missing family are here.’ She ran her hands through her hair, unsure what to think. Relief that they were alive, or annoyance that they’d wasted so much police time?

George turned to her. ‘So, what shall we do now?’

She was just working out what the correct procedure would be when her phone rang. It was Jackson.

‘Ailsa, just thought you’d like to know, the Welsh police have been on with some information they were given by Edward Roberts when he was interviewed. Apparently, he’s told them everything, including the fact that his cousin was involved in the drugs business. He also said something else, something very interesting…’ Ailsa waited, wondering why he always had to do this. Why couldn’t he just spit the bloody information out?

‘Go on, put me out of my misery.’

‘You were on the money, Ailsa. Those names on the passenger list were indeed our Mr Roberts and his children. His cousin arranged false IDs for them so they could escape his marriage.’

Ailsa laughed. ‘Way ahead of you. We’ve found them.’ A swell of satisfaction grew in her chest. It was nice to be right. But then her boss had been right as well, when he’d suggested that they had just run away. Were they running from the drugs business, or Luke’s wife? She thought it was a bit of an extreme way to get out of a marriage when all was said and done. Especially when he was an abuser. But there was so much they didn’t know and a lot that didn’t make sense. He was running away from something, that was for sure, and her job was to keep those children safe until they knew exactly what was going on.

‘I better speak to the boss, see what our next move is.’

She was very much looking forward to meeting Mr Roberts now. It would be interesting to hear his version of events. His justification for all the resources that had been used in the search for him, and the bruises he’d given his wife and children. She nodded to herself as she talked to Stevens, then said her goodbyes and disconnected.

‘Right, our mission, should we wish to accept it, is to watch and wait. The boss is going through whatever channels he has to go through to get them picked up and shipped back to Cumbria for questioning.’