Gerry Cornwell took his coffee and wandered through to his office. The oak bookcases had been in situ since the mid-nineteenth century. He ran his fingertips along the leather spines, an old habit, and made his way to the window, stopping to pick up his messages from the in-tray on his desk. The sun was struggling to be seen behind the cloud. He rifled through the pile of notes left for him by Doreen and discarded the three new research papers. They would be read this evening when he had the time to ingest the statistical information. In between a few glasses…There were requests for him as an after-dinner speaker and he threw those in the bin; he had no need or time for such things. He had no inclination these days, either. Nor were telephone messages of any interest to him, except the last one. He smiled as he picked up the phone to return the call. Detective Inspector Sam Jones. There was a name he hadn’t heard in a few years; no doubt she was phoning to discuss Lord Edward Hunter’s appointment as Lord Chancellor. It never hurt to have friends in high places.

‘It’s Gerry,’ he said when he heard her voice, anticipating hers in reply. He smiled again. The three simple words he did hear wiped it from his face.

‘He’s started again.’

Chapter Sixteen

Gerry Cornwell felt that he was going to faint. Or throw up. Instead, stupid questions formed on his lips. ‘Are you sure?’ he asked. Silence was the only reply. Of course she was sure. She wouldn’t have called otherwise. This wasn’t something to take chances on, to fill with rumours and half-thoughts. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it and continued. ‘Where? Where is it happening?’ His voice was shaky as he tried to swallow the bile that had crept up from his stomach.

‘Edinburgh.’

‘Are you sure?’ he asked again, desperately hoping that the simple process of repeating the words would convince her to change her mind and say it was all a mistake.

‘Can you stop saying that, please? Yes, I’m sure. I’m sure about all of it. He’s in Edinburgh and he’s killing. Again. There was a request on HOLMES 2 from a DI there. They put in the MO from Edinburgh to see if there had been any similar murders elsewhere in the country. Some DI called Bancho,’ she said.

‘So, what did the computer say?’ he asked, unable to keep the fear out of his voice.

‘No, of course, Gerry. It said “no”. We have been able to keep some things quiet. Maybe too many,’ DI Jones said sadly, as her voice tailed off.

‘How many have died?’ asked Cornwell.

‘Three. All men so far.’ Sam sounded shaken and tired.

‘Sam, what are you going to do about it?’ His voice quavered.