‘It’s a bit weird, though, isn’t it, ma’am?’ Amala said when the kid departed. ‘You had already identified yourselves as police, so if this man was the killer, he’d have to be mad to fire at you.’

‘Maybe,’ Hawkins acknowledged, having struggled with the same question. ‘But anyone that opens fire on two coppers can’t be the full ticket, so either way he’s worth tracking down.’

Aaron spoke next, re-salting his fish and chips. ‘So how good a look did you get at them?’

‘Not fantastic.’ She eyed her watery chicken tikka with suspicion. ‘From the size and the way they moved, I’d say we’re looking for an adult male in dark winter jacket and wellies. Beyond that it’s hard to judge.’

She explained their subsequent retreat, and that after leaving Cold Christmas church, she and Chris had returned to Thundridge. First, they had tried the corner shop again, to find it closed for the night, with no response at the adjoining house. The Trundles were presumably out for the evening.

They spent a further hour knocking at houses on the main street, asking locals about the three victims, the nearby ruin, and what they knew about anyone in the area with guns.

All had been aware of the church, although most were indifferent to its reputation. Nobody recognized Tennent, Wilson or Kowalski. But the most worrying thing was how common gun use proved to be. Hunting, it seemed, was considered a part of life in some areas of rural Hertfordshire, which vastly reduced the chances of identifying their attacker on gun ownership alone.

‘Anyway,’ Hawkins dabbed at her food with rigid pitta bread, ‘our main concerns should now be finding out whether the three victims actually went to the church in the first place, and if so, why.’

Amala picked at her roasted aubergine. ‘You don’t think it’s because of the spiritual thing, ma’am?’

‘Potentially,’ Hawkins said. ‘But let’s not rule out other possibilities just yet. All we know for sure is that two of the three men had Thundridge in their sat nav histories. We only found out about the church after we got there, so the reason for their visits might have been something else entirely.’

Frank sniffed. ‘Like what?’

‘Well, we know the garage where Kowalski worked was doing a fair old trade in narcotics at the time. Perhaps the boss sent him to pick up a big order, and the old church was the meeting point. Maybe Joel took a couple of mates along in case things kicked off.’

Frank wasn’t finished. ‘If all this is related to the church, why were they found in a mucky old flat in Brixton?’

‘Maybe there was a problem at the exchange,’ Amala said. ‘The three lads could have escaped, but then become targets for the gang, who tracked them down a few weeks afterwards.’