Heath smiled, noticeable pride in it. ‘I started shouting again, covering the noise of the chops, shouting louder the harder I hit. Managed to bend the metal enough to get my hand out.’ Heath stared at the swollen palm of his hand. ‘I was going to do the same to the leg irons but found the key hanging on a nail. I wanted to use the hatchet to bust through the shed doors but it was blunt so I went to the connecting door and peeked inside.’

Heath closed his eyes, recalling the scene. ‘He was in there, facing away from me, papers and maps all around like he was planning something. Probably where to bury me.’

‘So his back was turned to you?’ asked Chandler.

‘Yeah.’

‘And you had the hatchet?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Why didn’t you attack him?’

Heath paused, as if only now asking himself the same question. ‘I just wanted to get out of there, Sergeant. Anyway, he turned and stared at me. Looked as startled as I did. I bolted for the door, got outside and started running. I fuckin’ hate the outdoors.’

‘But you work outdoors,’ Chandler reminded him.

‘Only for the money. Give me brick, tarmac and air con any day but I haven’t got the brains or qualifications to scratch my arse behind a desk.’

Chandler corralled him back to his story. ‘So you ran but didn’t lose him?’

‘No. He’s built like one of those middle-distance runners for fuck’s sake. I managed to hold him off until I came to the graves.’

‘Graves?’ asked Chandler, feigning ignorance.

‘Yeah – graves. Or at least I think they were graves.’

The instantaneous backtrack made Chandler suspicious – as if his suspect were pretending not to know too much.

‘How many graves?’

‘Six I think. It was like I’d stumbled into hell given the heat.’ Heath flashed a weak smile, but it was quickly dropped when Chandler didn’t return it. ‘I aimed for the top of a hill thinking I’d find a way out but there was nothing but a ten-foot drop. Then he caught me and shoved me to the ground.’ Heath cleared his throat. ‘I don’t remember much about the fight other than neither of us laid a decent hand on each other, rolling over and over to try and get an advantage before we must have gone over the edge. When we landed, I remember thinking that I was dead, no air in my lungs, unable to move my arms or legs. Then I guess I passed out and woke up sometime later staring up at the ridge. I had no idea where I was.’

‘How long were you out?’

‘I dunno. The sun was still rising so I guess a couple of hours.’

‘Okay,’ said Chandler. ‘And where was Gabriel?’

‘Beside me. Covered in cuts and bruises. Alive . . . dead, I didn’t care. I left him there.’