Rain lashed against the windows of the London townhouse. Isabella Moretti tiptoed into the nursery, checking the baby monitor one last time.
The room was dark, illuminated only by the streetlights below. She walked to the crib where her newborn son slept soundly. She reached in to adjust his blanket.
Her hand brushed against something hard and cold.
Isabella frowned. She reached down and pulled the object out. It was a vintage toy soldier, made of heavy lead. It was painted in the uniform of the British Royal Guard, but someone had taken a brush of red paint and drawn a crude “X” over the soldier’s chest.
Isabella stopped breathing. She hadn’t bought this. Malcolm hadn’t bought this.
She looked at the window. It was locked. Someone had been in the house. Someone had leaned over the crib while her son slept and left a message.
Isabella clutched the toy to her chest, realizing with a jolt of terror that the English Channel wasn’t wide enough to protect them from the “Ghost at the Door”.