The only crumb of comfort was that none of the other men’s families had apparently been targeted, meaning his wife and children should be safe.

Steven continued to stare at the business card trying to figure out if he was more frightened of the person who might be coming for him or of letting his wife down. The house had been given to them as a wedding present by her father, who loomed heavily over their lives. He was a businessman who owned a string of health clubs throughout the country. To the surprise of his wife and mother-in-law, Steven had been welcomed into the family with open arms.

His father-in-law had never taken to any of his daughter’s previous boyfriends but he liked Steven for whatever reason and the house had been an extravagant gift to show that. If Steven were to tell his wife what happened all those years ago, it could wreck everything and, while his family seemed safe, he wanted to do all he could to avoid letting her know.

Steven pocketed the business card and stood up from the table, looking at his watch. The officers had left almost fifteen minutes ago and he had barely moved. He’d been mostly honest with them but hadn’t given them one piece of information, thinking perhaps he could find a way to deal with things on his own.

He went to the computer in the hallway and switched it on, waiting for it to boot up then loading an Internet browser window. He had searched for the name a few times in the past, using search engines and, more recently, social networking sites.

‘Samantha Weston’ was a name he had never forgotten.

He didn’t know what he might be able to do if he did track her down somehow but he thought it was a better option than giving the full details to the police and having everything come out.

Steven first tried the social networking site where he had his own profile. As with the last time he had searched, there was no one who seemed to match the woman’s details. He didn’t know where she came from but, with a name and general age, Steven had an idea of what he was looking for. The biggest problem was filtering out the male ‘Sam Weston’ matches from the females but, even after doing that, he couldn’t find someone who seemed right. There were also far too many general matches through the search engines he tried and he realised the woman could have either emigrated or got married – or both – which would affect his results too.

He tried numerous combinations of ‘Sam’, ‘Samantha’, ‘Weston’, ‘wedding’, ‘married’ and ‘marriage’, eventually finding a couple of combinations of alternative names the woman could have. With that information, he then returned to the social network and did some new searches with the other name. After almost an hour of trying, he settled upon a profile for ‘Sam Kellett’. The woman’s main picture was of her in a wedding dress. Because of her privacy settings, Steven couldn’t see much information about her but he did manage to view the photo in a higher resolution. He wouldn’t have said it was an absolute likeness but it had been eleven years since Steven had seen the woman and he thought there was definitely a similarity in appearance. Her hair was a lot darker in the wedding photos but anyone’s facial appearance would change slightly over time.

Without anyone else matching the age or likeness criteria, Steven figured this ‘Sam Kellett’ was the only possible candidate he was likely to find for the woman he had watched being attacked all those years ago. He returned to his previous searches and looked for the wedding notice. It had been placed in a local newspaper in the Harrogate area just across the Yorkshire border eighteen months ago and, from what it said, the woman’s husband was called ‘Colin’. It was probably an hour’s drive assuming they still lived in that neighbourhood but, aside from the name and area, he didn’t have an exact address. Steven tried more Internet searches for ‘Kellett’ and ‘Harrogate’ but there was nothing that gave him any more information.

Leaning back in the computer chair, Steven wondered what he should do. He could call Sergeant Daniel and tell her what he had found but, if things ended up in court, there was no way he could keep everything from his wife.

The man spent the next twenty-four hours running through scenarios in his mind, wondering if there was some way he could reveal what he knew without tearing his family apart. Would his wife understand he had said nothing during the attack because he was scared himself, or would she have a similar reaction to the officer? He wanted to take the risk of telling her but ultimately he felt more scared of her reaction than he did of whoever might be targeting him.

With that, Steven continued to try to find Sam. He didn’t know for sure if what was happening was down to her – or what he’d do if he found her – but he wondered if he might be able to reason with the woman. A voice at the back of his mind told him he deserved everything that was happening. As well as more Internet searches, Steven called directory enquiries, asking for ‘Sam Kellett’, ‘Samantha Kellett’ and ‘Colin Kellett’, none of which returned any results.

Eventually, two days after the visit, Steven felt almost resigned to his fate. He didn’t know if someone might end up coming after him but he did start carrying around a pocket knife just in case. His wife sensed something was wrong but he said things were fine. If he left the house, he tried to make sure he had someone else with him. He felt guilty at using his wife and children almost as human shields but tried to blank those feelings out.

After the weekend, his wife went to work as usual and, with his children at school, Steven was alone in the house for the first time properly since the officers had visited. He often worked from home anyway but was edgy about being on his own. He made sure the windows and doors were locked and tried to do his regular work.

Halfway through the morning the doorbell rang. Steven felt his heart rate rise but looked through the side window and saw the postman standing there. He signed for a parcel but, after taking it inside, realised how jumpy everything was making him.

Not long after, the doorbell sounded again. Steven again checked through the side window. A short and fairly slight man in jeans and a T-shirt was waiting but, from where Steven was looking, he had no idea who the person was. He moved around so he was on the other side of the door and shouted. ‘Who is it?’

‘Gas man, I’m here to check the meter.’

Steven hadn’t noticed a van outside his house but decided it wasn’t necessarily unusual as the person could have parked at the other end of the row of houses and then walked from one to the next. ‘Have you got identification?’

The man pressed a badge up against the window to the side of the door. Steven stared at it, realising that, aside from a company logo, he had no idea what he was looking for. He still couldn’t see the person’s face either. The identification had someone’s name on, as well as a company and a phone number. Steven thought about calling the number to check but figured it was probably a little over the top. He unbolted the door and opened it inwards before stepping back. His hand hovered imperceptibly close to the knife in his pocket.

The visitor stepped into the house and looked up. There was a flicker of recognition between the men and Steven realised he’d made a horrible mistake. ‘You?’ he said.

‘Me.’

Steven tried to grab the knife from his pocket but the other man was quicker, reaching forward and pushing something into his neck. His last thought before his eyes closed and he slumped to the floor was that the police officers who had visited him didn’t know how horribly wrong they were.