As his statement finished the questions were fired at him again. How dangerous was Gabriel? Was it true that they originally had Gabriel locked up and let him go? Could he confirm the identity of the six victims? Was there a chance he’d kill again? Was the second suspect still in custody? Why was the second suspect still in custody? Chandler answered them all, dazzled by the light. He even explained exactly how Gabriel got free, the official version, a procedural fault, the system to blame rather than a specific individual.

As he spoke he peered into the crowd. Despite the pleas to disperse it seemed to have swollen and he searched the faces, looking for Gabriel hidden amongst them. It would be exceptionally brave or stupid of Gabriel to return, but he had proved himself both capable and daring. He scanned for beards and hats, simple disguises that Gabriel might use. He looked for tanned faces and men of a certain height. There was no one fitting Gabriel’s description so he asked the reporters to disperse until morning to let the police do their job.

He slunk back inside the station feeling like a criminal himself. He was now part of the cover-up. Lying to the press.

But Chandler couldn’t contemplate his dishonesty right now. He focused on catching Gabriel and answering the one question charging around his skull. Why was Gabriel so fascinated with killing Heath that he voluntarily had himself arrested and waited for the – almost – perfect moment to attack?

Maybe there was something he hadn’t thought to ask Heath. Chandler moved through the office and into the holding area. Heath came right up to the door of the cell.

‘I’m not talking to anyone without my lawyer.’

‘Look, Mr Barwell . . . Heath. I don’t think that you have anything to do with this,’ said Chandler.

There was a pause before the angry response. ‘A bit late for that. And if I’ve nothing to do with this, can I leave now?’

‘We need to keep you safe until we find Gabriel. I believe he’s still after you. I think he got himself arrested just to get close to you.’

The prisoner shook his head. ‘But why? I don’t even know him.’

‘I’m trying to figure that out.’

‘If you let me out of here I’ll stick around. Or you can escort me out of town. Bulletproof car or whatever.’

‘That I can’t do, sorry. You’re safe in there.’

‘Like hell I am! At least out of this cell I have a chance to run. Given that you’re so convinced he’s after me, you did a great job making sure he was close enough to try and kill me. And then you let him escape. So forgive me for not being overwhelmed with confidence in your abilities.’