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head, then the tattoos and a picture was formed. And was probably quite accurate.
    But it was more than that and he knew it. The expression in his eyes dared anyone who glanced his way to take him on. It let the world know he was ready for a fight.
    Even now a group of men stood not too far away, fags in one hand, pints in another, but not one of them dared look him in the eye.
    It hadn’t always been that way. By the time he was ready to fight back his real enemy had been dead. Only while he was a child had his father dared to hit, kick and spit on him. Every ounce of the man’s frustration at his wife’s desertion had found a direct route to his son’s flesh. If only his father had known that eventually Symes would come to hate his mother. It was something they could have agreed on.
    As a child he had found that his pain was eased only by causing pain. There was a release, a euphoria like nothing else he had ever experienced. The power transported him to another place. It was beyond sexual, it was almost religious in its purity, something to worship.
    A movement caught his peripheral vision. He looked the figure up and down.
    It was time to say a prayer.

Eighteen
    â€˜ A nother text message , Marm,’ Helen said, poking her head in the doorway.
    Kim had guessed as much from Karen’s scream and brushed past the liaison officer.
    She found the four of them in the comfy lounge, as she now thought of it. The activity was completely at odds with the ambiance. Unlike the formal lounge across the hallway, this room was bathed in a beige glow with soft, warm furnishings and sofas gathered around a fire and a TV. Clearly it was intended as a space for a family to gather at night to relax. But now she felt the room might explode with tension at any minute.
    Stephen paced the area behind the sofa. Robert stood at the window biting down on his hand. Karen and Elizabeth sat close to each other, staring at their phones.
    â€˜What the hell is that supposed to mean?’ Stephen shouted.
    Kim held out her hand towards Karen who relinquished the device readily. Kim immediately saw that the text message was from a different number than the first. She took Elizabeth’s phone next and the words were exactly the same.
    Your daughter is safe for now. The game will begin tomorrow.
    â€˜Tell us, Inspector. What does that mean?’ Stephen raged.
    Kim shook her head. At this point she had no clue what they were dealing with.
    She couldn't help but wonder at the purpose of the text message. It asked for nothing. It told them nothing. It appeared to be a poke.
    â€˜Did you pre-empt this?’ Stephen asked. ‘How do we react? What do we say?’
    â€˜At the moment we say nothing, Mr Hanson. The message calls for no response,’ Kim replied calmly.
    He threw his hands in the air. ‘Is that really how you intend to manage this investigation, Inspector? No response?’
    She tried not to offer a reaction to what was clearly a fear-induced rant but it was becoming clear that every bit of his rage was going to be aimed at her.
    Kim opened her mouth but Helen stepped forward.
    â€˜Try to focus on the first part of the message,’ she said, looking around the parents. ‘Your daughters are safe.’
    The ladies looked to the kindly woman who took a seat at the end of the sofa. Elizabeth tried in vain to stem the tears but Karen allowed them to fall freely.
    Helen looked to Kim for permission to continue. Kim offered a slight nod. This was not her skill set.
    â€˜Look, consider the logic. Whoever these people are, they want something from you. It's not in their best interest to harm your girls in any way.’
    All eyes were on Helen. Her warm, comforting voice drew them in like a congregation. This was serious counselling training at work.
    Robert took his place beside Karen and gently took her hand. Unconsciously she leaned into him. The tears slowed as they all focussed on Helen.
    Kim