I reached out for the gun. ‘Joe never betrayed his friends or family. Never. Tell me where he is. It’s your part of the deal, Donna. I got you your meeting with Graham Marshall.’

She never had time to answer me. A shot rang out and pinned her to the floor as a large red stain soaked through her blouse like a dark red poppy. Alex Grant, the sheriff clerk, was marching towards us.

‘You stupid fucker!’ I screamed at him. Kneeling down I picked up Donna Cook in my arms. ‘Where is Joe? Where is Joe? Tell me, tell me! Where is Joe?’ I shrieked, but she had already slipped into unconsciousness.

Chapter Sixty-Two

The courtroom was now in chaos. DI Bancho, and armour-clad, armed officers stormed up the stairs, taking them two at a time. The noise and shouting was deafening. The officers just kept on coming, and I was pushed back into the periphery of the scene. Alex Grant looked unrepentant and his free hand was steady as he pushed back his black hair. He still held the smoking gun.

Bancho checked me over with his eyes. A doctor was soon on hand to stem the blood flowing from Donna Cook’s chest. They wouldn’t let me near her. I stormed across to Bancho who was locked in conversation with the clerk, who thought he was Billy the fucking Kid.

‘Who is he?’ I said pointing at Alex Grant. My finger was shaking with fury.

Bancho glanced at me, deliberately misunderstanding my meaning. ‘He’s the sheriff clerk.’

‘Clerks don’t go around shooting people,’ I said, poking Bancho in the shoulder. ‘Who is he?’

‘Sorry,’ said Grant, who looked anything but contrite. ‘I was in Special Forces in Northern Ireland during the Troubles. When the Lockerbie hearing was on I was sent undercover. No one questions a clerk, and since nine/eleven I’ve kind of been on standby–it’s the case in a lot of city courts actually,’ he offered sheepishly.

Bancho shrugged his shoulders. ‘If I’d told you about him your eyes would have given it away. Donna Cook would have picked up on it and he would have been compromised.’

‘Bancho, you have to find out where Joe is! Let me speak to her, she might see sense,’ I said, pulling on the front of his jacket, dragging him towards where the medics were still working on the woman. She had killed at least four people, butchering their corpses, two victims were still missing, and I had chatted with her over coffee without suspecting a thing. I caught myself studying her features out of the corner of my eye, wondering if I’d ever trust my own judgement again. ‘What went on in there? How could she have waited so long?’

Bancho stood quietly by my side. ‘The impulse to kill,’ he said. ‘Does everybody have it, do you think?’