He ran towards the water, having no other option, and dived in just as he heard another shot. His lungs screamed and he felt pain in his back; whether it was from exertion, fear or a lead slug, he didn’t know. He spotted a boat about twenty yards off the beach and swam underwater as far as he could. When he surfaced, the man on deck – he recognised him as Horace, a local out on a fishing trip, no doubt – stood up and waved his newspaper at him.

He had virtually no breath left, and as he reached the boat, he went under again. The cold burned his skin and he felt himself weakening.

‘Start the motor!’ he shouted, not knowing if he could be heard or if he was just gurgling water. But then he heard the engine cough into life, and Horace reached over the side to pull him up.

‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ he said. ‘What was all that bloody noise? It woke me up, that’s for sure.’

‘Gunshots, Horace. Now get me out of here.’

Chapter 55

The patrol car was already at Eamont Bridge when it got the call. No one had told them to use sirens. It was a routine call to a woman on her own: a potentially important witness intimidation case. They sped through the countryside at a good pace, slowing down only to negotiate tight bends. The driver was adept at throwing his vehicle around roads framed with sharp dry-stone wall edges, and he navigated with expertise, but the passenger still held on to his roof strap.

When they arrived in Bampton, the village was deserted, and they carried on to the tiny hamlet of Bampton Grange, searching for the house in question. The only light was from a few tiny orange slits behind closed curtains and blinds, and they struggled to locate the address. They checked their navigation equipment and found that they were on the wrong side of the road. There seemed to be nothing out of the ordinary at all. No barking dogs, screaming arguments, or drunken yobs. It was just black and silent.

They got out of the vehicle and approached the door. One of the officers knocked. There was no answer. He knocked louder, then spoke into his radio.

‘Patrol 357, no answer at property, repeat, no answer at property. Going round the rear of the residence.’

Round the back, they found a different scene. There was smashed glass, and the door was wide open. Inside, the property was in darkness.

‘Proceed with caution,’ came the instruction.

‘Is anybody there?’ one of the officers shouted. ‘Tilly?’

They looked at one another and stepped inside. The first officer switched on a light. The other held up his hand and shook his head. He spoke urgently into his radio.

‘Patrol 357, request for support. Evidence of violence.’