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Vaslik didn’t envy him his job. It would be a tough sell.

    When he returned to the house through the rear gate and stepped into the living room, Ruth was standing by a shelf where an electronic frame showed a series of photos flicking past in sequence. Family shots, clearly; some grouped, some single, smiling faces against a variety of backgrounds, in living colour. Happy times. Nancy, a small girl and a man, although his face never quite spoke to the camera.
    â€œIs that your husband?” she queried, pointing at one shot. The man was slim and tanned, with a fading smile as if he had just been dropping a pose a shade too early. Or was turning away.
    â€œMichael, yes.” She gave a ghost of a smile. “He hates having his photo taken. His parents were always shoving a camera in his face and he says it put him off for life.”
    â€œIt would be good to have some shots of him and Beth. If you don’t have any handy I could take the disc out of there and have some printed.” She opened her briefcase and took out a slim notebook computer. “I wouldn’t have to take it away—I can download what we need right here.”
    Nancy frowned. “Why do you need a photo of Michael?”
    â€œIt helps,” Ruth explained, “especially if we need to circulate pictures of Beth. Photos jog memories and a family group carries more weight than a single shot. Makes it more urgent, more real. People are prepared to make more effort with a family shot because they can relate to it.”
    Nancy nodded. “I see. Of course. Help yourself.”
    Ruth took the frame down and extracted the disc from the back. It was the size of a postage stamp. She opened her computer and took a card reader from her briefcase, sliding the disc into the smallest slot and plugging the reader into one of the USB ports.
    â€œWhat’s that?” Nancy looked worried. “You won’t lose them, will you?”
    â€œNo, this opens the files so I can see which one to copy. I won’t be a second.” She glanced past the woman’s shoulder at Vaslik and gave a minute tilt of her head.
    He got the message.
    â€œIs he secretive, your husband?” It was the first time he had spoken in the house. He had a pleasant accent without the throatiness of many American men.
    â€œI don’t think so. No more than most. Why?” She looked down at the extension phone in his hand, the wire coiled around it. “That’s from my bedroom. What are you doing with it?”
    He dropped it on the settee. “We don’t want you taking calls while you’re alone.”
    â€œYou can’t do that!” She snatched up the phone and clutched it to her. “You have no right.”
    Ruth moved across and sat next to her, and gently but firmly took the phone from her. “It’s OK, Nancy. He’s right, I’m afraid; that’s what we’re here for. You can take any calls that come in, but if it’s the people who took Beth, we have to be here to advise you.” She placed the phone to one side. “We’re used to this kind of thing. Where is your cell phone?”
    â€œYou can’t take that, too.”
    â€œWe’re not going to. But you should leave it down here whenever you go to bed.” She had no way of explaining how traumatic it would be waking up suddenly in the middle of the night to a call from her daughter’s kidnappers.
    Nancy relented. “It’s in the kitchen.”
    Ruth nodded at Vaslik, who stepped through the door and retrieved it, placing it on the arm of the settee. He stepped towards the window, drawing Nancy’s attention away from what Ruth was doing. “Your daughter must miss him, being away so much.”
    â€œYes, she does.” She shivered and moved towards him, glancing back at Ruth. “In fact there are times when I think she can’t really remember him. She’s so young.” A tear erupted and