Still, they were getting nowhere. Burning down an empty mill and frightening lovers in a churchyard hardly led to murder. On the whole, he thought Hamish was right, the killer saw injury where others did not. If, in fact, it was the past that had led to these deaths.

He said, “When you leave here, don’t take what happened last night lightly. Don’t go out alone after dark. Not even on your own property. Take someone you trust with you. Between nine at night and early morning, lock your doors. If someone summons you, ignore it unless there’s another person to go with you. And don’t turn your back on a stranger. It could cost you your life. The four men who were killed had no chance to cry for help. Remember that. They were dead before they quite knew what was happening to them. It’s not a risk worth taking.”

And he let them go home. There was nothing else he could do.

Walker watched the five men gather their belongings and walk out the door of the police station without looking back. Even Tuttle, his nephew had nothing to say as they left.

“Do you think they’ll heed your warning?” Walker asked.

Rutledge shook his head. “We’ll know when the next victim is found.”

Rutledge left the constable at the police station and went to The Fishermen’s Arms to shave and change.

After an early breakfast, he went to the brewery and waited patiently in the office until Tyrell Pierce had finished overseeing the work on a new gauge for their primary vat.

He came in, brisk and busy, the distinctive aroma of roasted hops following him in the door. He ushered Rutledge into his office and said immediately, “Is there any news? Have you found this killer?”

“Not yet.” Rutledge took the chair Pierce indicated and watched the man round his desk and sit down.

Hamish was saying, “Do ye reckon there’s a reason his son canna’ come back to Eastfield? And the father knows what it was he did, and who is to blame for it?”

Pierce was fit enough, Rutledge found himself thinking, but it was difficult to see what Daniel Pierce was afraid of—or was ashamed of. No one else seemed to remember. Unless of course the smoking rags under the police station door was a red herring, and the four men who might have told the police the truth were already dead. It was hard to believe that Pierce had murdered his elder son to protect the younger.

He recalled Tyrell Pierce’s barely concealed fear on his first visit, fear that Daniel was somehow involved. Or at least that the police would suspect him.