Chandler turned to glare at his constable. Luka was technically correct but it wasn’t a helpful interjection. He already had a potential serial killer on his hands; he didn’t need a separate murder investigation.

‘Ken! The gun. Now!’ Chandler held his hand out for the shotgun. Though he tried to will it, nothing he could do could stop it from shaking.

‘It’s my gun,’ said Ken.

‘And you’ll get it back.’

‘I’ve a right to have it.’

‘But not a right to point it at people.’

‘Even at bastards stealing ma’ car?’

‘You’ve brought him to us. That’s enough.’

‘He hasn’t admitted it,’ said Ken.

Again his hostage winced, his jaw clenched tight. A defeated aura encompassed him. The serial killer caught by chance, his carefully laid plans foiled by a slow-witted – but dangerous – local.

Seeing that Ken wasn’t about to drop the gun, Chandler turned to the hostage. ‘Did you try and steal the car?’

There was a nod. The confession at gunpoint. ‘Yeah, I tried to steal his car. I had to. I had to get away, there’s—’

His confession was halted by another jab of the gun. ‘Bullshit, boy. There’s no excuses, you city arseholes think you can get away with anything out here.’

‘You’ve got your confession, Ken. You can let him go now,’ said Chandler.

‘But he isn’t sorry.’

‘Ken!’

Ken scowled, removing the gun from his hostage’s back and aimed it at the ceiling. Chandler released the curdled air from his lungs and felt the collective tension ease, the mass of hitched shoulders dropped as one. Tanya and Luka darted forward to part Ken from his hostage. Chandler stepped towards him as Ken resisted Tanya’s attempts to take the shotgun from his hands.

‘The gun’s mine.’

‘Forty-eight hours, Ken,’ said Chandler. ‘To give you a chance to calm down. Next time you spot an intruder, call us.’

‘I want it back. Two days, Sergeant. I need that gun.’ Ken scowled, looking lost without his firearm, eyes wide in hurt as if his only child had been ripped from his grasp.

‘Two days,’ said Chandler, ignoring Tanya’s look of frustration. He knew her opinion. She didn’t condone anyone but the police having guns. It might have been her three kids talking but truth was she had never liked them. Not that she was afraid to aim one to hammer home a point. Chandler nodded at her to usher Ken out of the station. He was, for once, the least dangerous madman present.