The eight-year-old boy had vanished from the car and - as if by slick, sick magic - had been replaced by a note on the steering wheel...'You don't love him'...At the height of summer a dark shadow falls across Exmoor. Children are being stolen from cars. Each disappearance is marked only by a terse note - a brutal accusation. There are no explanations, no ransom demands.
Finders.Keepers: SelectedProse1971-2001 [normalized discoverer all see a portion Selected Prose: 1971 - 2001. Seamus Heaney. the English original]