13
Wanting to sleep. Incapable of sleep.
Good cop, bad cop.
Role reversal.
Ray-Bans snoozed while Baseball Cap did the talking, his eyes half-hidden above the curved red brim of his cap. Lean and mean, he wore a constant grin of sardonic amusement.
He reached for the wallet in the pocket of his coffee-brown sports jacket and plucked out a passport-sized photo.
‘Recognise her?’
He dangled the image a few inches from her nose. By now it was difficult to see anything, even close up, though she didn’t need to look to know who it would be. She tried shaking her head, but the searing pain in her neck rendered her paralysed from the shoulders up.
‘No need to answer, Sheila. We’re not stupid. Give up pretending and tell us where she is.’
They hadn’t found her. At least that was something
