‘Have you heard anything from your friend the isotope man? ’

A pause. ‘I only sent the samples off last night, he—’

‘Chase him up, tell him it’s a priority.’

The historian settled onto the bench, flexing his hand and scowling at the swollen nodule between his knuckles. ‘Ow. . .’

‘I’ll be in soon as I’ve sorted something out.’ Logan hung up and stuck the phone back in his pocket. Stood. ‘I’d better get going.’

Alex looked up at him. ‘You think it’s someone involved in the film? ’

‘Something like that.’

A sigh. ‘Horrible to think it might be someone I work with.’

‘We’re pursuing several lines of enquiry.’ He checked his watch again. ‘Look, I hate to hurry you, I really have to get—’

‘Yes, of course.’ The historian levered himself to his feet, sucked at the lump on his hand again, then followed Logan down the crazy-paving path towards the house. ‘Do you believe in witches? ’

‘Of course I don’t.’

‘In the book, neither does Rowan. A witch-finder that doesn’t believe in witches. She doesn’t believe in talismans like that either.’

Logan stopped. Turned.

The historian was pointing at the guttering beside the kitchen door.

‘Talismans? ’ Two steps back and there it was: a knot of three small bones, tied with a black ribbon. Just like the ones at the caravan.

‘In Witchfire, there’s a Vodun bokor who uses them to protect himself from his enemies.’ A shrug. ‘I said the belief system was a bit of a hodgepodge.’

‘You told me you were finished with the scene!’ Logan shifted the mobile from one ear to the other, foot flat to the floor. The Fiat’s engine whined and complained, the speedometer jiggling its way up to seventy as it hammered down the Tyrebagger hill.

The SEB head tech’s voice was thin, as if he was forcing it through gritted teeth. ‘We were finished. There’s nothing—’

‘Then why did I just find three human finger bones hanging outside the back door? ’

‘That’s not—’

‘Get your people back out there and do it properly!’

‘Don’t you—’

‘You left human remains at a crime scene, John, how, exactly, is that doing your job? Now get. . . John? ’ Pause. ‘John? ’ Typical, he’d hung up. Bloody prima donna.

Logan overtook an eighteen-wheeler and tried Chalmers instead.

‘Guv? ’

‘I want you to get over to Agnes Garfield’s house and find us a DNA sample. If the parents give you any trouble, tell them it’s standard procedure when someone goes missing.’

‘Don’t worry, Guv: I get the feeling they’ll be a lot more cooperative now they know she’s OK.’

‘Why would they. . .? ’ The cash-machine withdrawal – she was caught on camera. Sodding hell. ‘Her parents don’t know. We didn’t tell them she’d been spotted taking money out of Anthony Chung’s account.’ Bloody idiot.