From this angle it appeared the old beige armchair was talking, ink marks from thumbing the newspaper staining the side. Most wives might have been angry at the mess but Chandler knew his mum was glad to see them, for if Peter was planted in the seat he could get up to no mischief. In the past she had tried to scrub the ink marks off but as soon as she did another set would magically appear, more pronounced, the artist creating a new picture over the shadow of the last.

Using the arms as support his dad stood up. Now in his late sixties, whatever hair he had was disappearing, his face lined like a relief map, a pointed nose dominating his features. It offered the impression that he was a harsh man but nothing could have been further from the truth. He was a puppy, as excited and curious about life as he had been sixty years ago.

‘They were angry because of the First Confession thing—’ began his dad.

‘Mass,’ corrected his mum.

‘Mass has been cancelled. The other kids are blaming you cause you’re in charge.’

‘Not with Mitch around,’ muttered Chandler.

‘And how is young Mitchell Andrews?’ asked his mum.

The last thing Chandler wanted to talk about was Mitch, so he shrugged and pretended he didn’t know.

‘If he’s come to town something major’s taking place,’ she added.

‘I’ll sleep here, if that’s okay,’ said Chandler, changing the subject. Though both suspects were locked up tight and it would have taken just two minutes to return home, he wanted to sleep under the same roof as his kids tonight.

His mum’s inquisitive expression broke into a beaming smile. ‘Do you want some food?’

‘No, it’s okay.’

‘I’ll make you something,’ she said, pushing him towards the kitchen.

Chandler made for the marshmallowy sofa that swallowed him up into its brushed-white goodness. Unable to sleep he reviewed the evidence behind his eyelids. He had two suspects who were pretty much mirror opposites: a scared Gabriel Johnson, the tremor in his voice implying nerves but also possessing an unnerving silky quality, a voice that could no doubt persuade an eager hitch-hiker into a car. But if he were the kidnapper and killer, why had he escaped only to come back and let himself get captured? More likely he wanted to be the Good Samaritan and stop Heath from killing again. A Heath who was loud and vehement and violent, denying everything apart from stealing a car and protesting even being under the same roof as Gabriel. If his was an act it was very convincing, again the kind of acting that might persuade a nervous hiker to get into a car with them. Though Gabriel had in effect surrendered twice, Heath hadn’t voluntarily done anything.