The man had refused every chance to explain the seemingly harmless matter of why he’d been standing on the street outside Joseph White’s office, apparently staring up at them.

If it hadn’t been for the intensity of his gaze, Hawkins might have dismissed him as a fan of the local architecture, and not drawn White’s attention to him at all. Had she not pointed the man out, White might not have remembered seeing him before. And even when she and Chris had gone outside to establish his intent, Hawkins was prepared for the explanation to be something trivial.

But his behaviour had changed her mind.

He had run frantically enough to risk not only their lives, but his own as well. And once cornered, he’d been desperate enough to escape that he’d assaulted a police officer in the attempt.

Why?

Whatever the reason, it clearly struck terror in their subject’s mind.

Her overriding suspicion was that it had something to do with the esoteric domain of spirituality that seemed to be gradually enveloping this whole investigation. Cases involving extreme faiths of any kind were always tricky, purely because the individuals were often so indoctrinated that no amount of evidence or reason could steer them back to reality.

The odd thing was that the watcher appeared to be a way off extremism.

Yes, there was fear in his eyes, the kind that flourished when a person tried to live by a set of rules that dissolved under light scrutiny.

He wore no visible jewellery or tattoos that might have hinted at serious faith or allegiance. And oddly he’d been carrying nothing on him when searched – no wallet, no keys, no phone. They’d taken his fingerprints upon arrival at the station, but unless he’d been arrested before, there would be nothing on record. And if, as she suspected, they couldn’t trace his route back to source via CCTV, the only way they were going to find out his name was if he decided to tell them.

For a second the watcher looked as if he was going to speak, and Hawkins felt her jaw tighten, immediately regretting the reflex. Pain shot outwards from the lump that already felt like a snooker ball in her cheek. Thankfully, a quick inspection in the loos hadn’t revealed any broken teeth, but she wasn’t going to forget where his elbow made contact any time soon.

And his intake of breath resulted only in a small sigh.

‘Come on.’ Hawkins heard her tone betray their lack of options; tried to tune it out. ‘All we want to know is why you ran.’

More nervous gazing.

More silence.

Time for the direct approach.

‘You’re scared of something,’ she observed without warning, judging from the way that the watcher snapped to attention that she was on the right track. ‘What is it?’