Meanwhile, Hawkins, Frank and Chris had returned to Cold Christmas, hoping to identify the mystery gunman she and Chris had encountered the previous afternoon. Everyone had a story – whether it was regarding the old church and its otherworldly connections, or how disgusted they were at the parish council’s decision to introduce bi-weekly rubbish collections – and they were all dying for the chance to tell it. Annoyingly, however, by late afternoon, all they’d established was that anyone seen carrying a rifle locally was presumed to be doing their bit to keep rabbit numbers down, more likely to be supported than reported.

Hawkins had even returned to the church itself, once in the morning, and again after dark, this time with Hertfordshire air surveillance on standby to pursue the gunman, should he return.

Of course, they had seen neither hide nor hair.

Her gaze drifted to the window, as a shower began to clatter gently against the glass. Daylight had long gone, of course, but she could see the rain falling in delicate sheets across the street lamp just outside.

Her thoughts arrested at the familiar voice. ‘Figured I’d find you here.’

Hawkins turned to see Mike standing in the doorway.

‘Brought you these.’ He held up a small white bag, bright slashes of colour across it.

She pouted, recognizing her favourite brand of pick and mix, hiding her relief that he’d made the effort to track her down. ‘Is this an apology?’

‘More of a peace offering.’ He stepped inside, looking typically pristine. His suit and casual white shirt could have been freshly pressed, despite what would have been a full day at work.

‘I know things have been kinda rough between us lately, so I thought I’d come by. You know,’ he held out the bag, ‘make nice.’

She looked at it. ‘Are you trying to bribe an officer of the law?’

‘Absolutely.’

They smiled at each other as Hawkins took the sweets. ‘Did you really come all the way over here just to give me these?’

‘And to say thanks.’

Her eyes narrowed.

‘Your move at the garage turned out to be genius,’ Mike said. ‘We knew who the ringleaders were, watched those assholes for months. But they knew we knew, so they just stayed off the front line, aware that we wouldn’t go in hard till we had evidence linking them to the whole operation.’ He stopped to look out of the window, shrugged. ‘Goddamn stalemate …’

‘Until we came in,’ Hawkins commented.

‘Right.’ He turned back. ‘Arresting Kask out of left field like that broke the stand-off. Yesterday things went off big time – a bunch of the minor guys got spooked and disappeared, leaving the major players exposed. Most of them were smart enough to lay low, but there’s this new dude, young, inexperienced. He panics, tries to offload his whole stash to a rival, but with no workers around to do it for him, the dumbass goes himself.’