So Agnes Garfield was planting corpses in her very own garden of bones.

‘Not really.’ He hauled his tie back with one hand and tightened it. ‘But I think I know who your bones in the pot belong to: one Nicholas Alexander Balfour.’

‘Ah, right: the spiritualist bloke from the graveyard. Cool. Wondered where he’d got to. Anyway, I spoke to Guthrie – he’s heard back from SOCA’s American Justice Department goons. Anthony Chung’s got form for dealing and a couple of DUIs, but you want to know what’s really interesting? ’

Logan held the phone against his chest, then leaned over and kissed Samantha on the forehead. Her skin was cool and clammy against his lips. ‘Got to go. I’ll see you later, OK? ’

Back to the phone.

‘Guv? You there? ’

‘Go on then: what’s really interesting? ’

‘Turns out his dad’s linked to about two dozen hydroponic cannabis farms in San Francisco. They couldn’t prove anything, but everyone knew it was him.’

Like father, like son. ‘Thanks. Tell Steel I’ll be there in twenty.’

Rain pattered against the window of Steel’s office, making shining ribbons that glittered their way down the glass. She sat back with her feet up on her desk, fake cigarette dangling out the side of her mouth. ‘So she’s a nutbag then? ’

Dr Goulding shrugged, then crossed his legs the other way. ‘Let’s just say she’s a deeply disturbed young woman.’

Steel looked up at Logan. ‘That’s Liverpudlian for “nutbag”.’

‘She’s as much a victim of Anthony Chung’s drug baron fantasy as anyone she hurt for him. He cast himself in the role of Moderator, the man in charge of the Fingermen in Witchfire. Kept her off her medication and on high-concentration THC cannabis. She believed everything he told her.’ Goulding held his hands out – nothing up my sleeves. ‘I’ve started her on Risperidone, so we should see an improvement in her mental state before too long. In the meantime, I’ve arranged for a Mental Health Officer to see her later this morning. Agnes needs to be transferred to a secure psychiatric facility where she can be taken care of, not locked in a prison cell.’

Steel puffed on her fake cigarette. ‘Tell that to the four poor sods she tortured to death.’

‘Yes, well. . .’

She hauled open a bottom drawer, and pulled out a box the size of a thermos flask. ‘Laz: you caught her, and Anthony Chung; rescued Chalmers; and didn’t get anyone killed. Here.’ She chucked it to him. ‘You can have your present after all.’

Logan caught the box. Whatever it was, it was wrapped in brown paper. ‘Do I want to know? ’

Steel grinned at him. ‘Open it.’

OK. . .