Chandler expected at least a moment of quiet deliberation of his theory but Mitch shot back immediately. ‘But Gabriel was caught first wasn’t he? In fact, he handed himself in. Twice.’

‘True, but as Heath has stated, he had no way to get here quicker. That’s why he tried to steal the car.’

‘But we have no guarantee that after stealing the car he was going to come to the station, only his word that he was, and that means nothing to me. The evidence we have, Sergeant, points to Heath. But while we put together something concrete, we’ll keep them both here.’

‘You’re reading it wrong,’ said Chandler. ‘It’s not Heath.’

‘And you’re clutching at straws, Sergeant.’

‘But them working together makes no sense.’

Mitch interrupted, not raising his voice but insistence creeping through each word.

‘Sergeant, we’re charging both Mr Barwell and Mr Johnson.’

Ironically, given that under normal circumstances his daughter’s First Confession would have been under way right now, Chandler headed to the church where the magistrate’s court had been hastily convened in its hall. People with graver sins than his daughter would be offering their confessions.

To preside over the hearing, Eleanor White had been flown in. Eleanor had been the local magistrate for twenty-five years but even the tight bun that strangled her silver hair couldn’t contain her excitement. Nothing in her long years of serving came close to this. Indeed, the case had brought the town to life for the first time in years, drawing to the surface a morbid fascination with death amongst its population that no amount of funfairs or amusement rides could hope to match.

Chandler’s involvement was purely as a spectator, Mitch ordering his team to prep and move the suspects under close watch from their lawyers, the alert level raised to extreme, guiding them with excessive caution from the cells to the cars, one suspect in the back seat of each, flanked by a pair of Mitch’s officers. Until the last second. Spying his chance, Chandler jumped in the back seat of Gabriel’s transport ahead of Yohan. The squat officer shot daggers at Chandler but was outranked and minus the support of his boss who had left in the lead car with Heath, who had to be physically forced into it when told where he was going. As Chandler squashed up alongside Gabriel he gauged his reaction but got nothing that indicated that Gabriel was excessively worried, the suspect merely shifting around as if discomforted by the slick leather seats. Otherwise, he was placid.