“What did you make of that?” Savage asked when they were in the car. He had allowed Connibear to drive.

“Not much,” said Connibear. He was disappointed that they had achieved so little. His exhilaration and optimism had disappeared. He felt that the interview which had promised so much had been an anticlimax. It had been over so quickly. “ They didn‘ t tell us much more than Ernest.”

“Oh, they did. They told us that Mardle threatened specifically to murder each of the family members. That makes a big difference.”

“But it’s not logical. Charlie had no part in throwing his mother out of the cottage.”

“Of course it’s not logical, lad. It’s crazy. But murder isn’t logical, and most murderers are mad. The courts don’t admit it very often, but it’s true. It’s not logical to want to kill every prostitute in Yorkshire, but it happens.”

“So you think it was Mardle? The old man wasn’t very convinced.”

“The old man hasn’t met as many murderers as I have. I don’t think anything yet. I’ll want to get some more information from the scientists before I think anything. But I wouldn’t be surprised if it turned out to be the boy. I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“So you don’t think that the financial motive is important?”

“No I don’t. The amount isn’t big enough. For someone like Pamela Marshall it’s peanuts. And that boy Jonathan could get anything he wanted out of his parents. They obviously dote on him. If he wanted money, he only had to ask for it. Besides, he wasn’t there, and I know that whoever killed Charlie Todd is still on that island.”

Connibear drove through the town towards the police station. The orange street lights were reflected in the wet pavements. In the summer it was a shabby, tatty town. The gift shops sold cheap and shoddy souvenirs, the amusement arcades were brash and noisy. There was nothing classy about it. There were no good restaurants, no smart boutiques. Now that all the holiday premises were closed it had a quiet, derelict dignity. The pubs were just closing. Three people waited in the fish and chip shop, but towards the harbour the streets were deserted.

Connibear pulled into the car park behind the police station. It could have been anything from a town hall to an insurance office, but no other building in the town was so obviously open and alive. Connibear switched off the engine, waited for Savage to make a move. He sat for a moment.

“There’s no need for you to come in,” Savage said. “ I won’t be long. You go home if you like. We’ll have to go back there tomorrow morning.”

He nodded into the darkness towards the sea.

“That’s all right. I’ll come in with you, if you don’t mind. I’m in no rush to get home.”

It was his first important case. He did not want to miss out on it.

Savage seemed pleased, pushed the door open aggressively, paced impatiently while Connibear fumbled to lock the car, then they walked quickly together towards the building.