Boer carefully sat himself on a low wall and watched Ferreira as she knocked and moved between neighbouring doors. Eventually a figure lingered in a doorway longer than it took to glance at a badge and shake their head. Ferreira asked questions Boer could not hear, but knew were focused around Where are the family in number fifty-two? Ferreira thanked the neighbour and walked back across the wide road, her olive jacket flapping open. She rested a hand on her hip as she stopped in front of Boer. ‘What’re you looking at?’ He gave her an embarrassed smile. ‘Something in my eye. What did they say?’ She kept her eyes on him for a second and then took a look at her notes. ‘They’re at church, they go every week.’ ‘Really?’ ‘Yep.’ Ferreira checked her watch. ‘Only the mother and kids though. The husband works away a lot, at least that’s what the neighbour seems to think. They should be back any time.’ Boer scraped his heel across the pavement. ‘I don’t get that.’ ‘What don’t you get?’ ‘You get two constables banging on your door Saturday night and you find out your daughter is missing.
