Jupp smiled. ‘I’m curious. You may answer the question,’ he directed Emily Denyer.

All eyes were on her and she played to the audience with gusto and a wry smile. ‘We called him The Iceberg, because he had so very little showing above the surface.’

69

Friday 17 May

Despite the seriousness of the situation, of having a highly dangerous, clever and unpredictable serial killer at large, Roy Grace had to stop himself smiling as he sat in ACC Cassian Pewe’s office, watching his boss’s apoplectic face on the far side of his far-too-big desk.

‘Heads are going to roll, Roy,’ Pewe said.

Yes, Grace thought. And the first one that should roll is yours!

‘This is unbelievable. U N B E L I E V A B L E.’ Pewe said the word again, slowly, as if spelling it out loud. ‘How on earth has this happened, can you tell me?’

With pleasure, Grace thought. ‘A consultant surgeon went into Dr Crisp’s private room to check on the wound in his eye. It appears that Crisp took him by surprise, overpowered him, rendered him unconscious and switched clothing, putting him in the bed instead of himself. I understand the room was dark to ease the pain for Crisp’s eye – he was claiming that bright light hurt it. As a result, no one was aware of what had happened for several hours, until the consultant regained consciousness.’

Pewe, with his tensions rising, opened and shut his mouth several times, looking like a cat trying to cough up a hairball, before speaking. ‘There was meant to be a police guard, twenty-four-seven, outside Crisp’s door – what were they doing – ordering their online shopping?’

‘Guarding,’ Grace said, and then waited for Pewe’s response.

‘I mean, honestly, Roy, how – how could they have let this happen?’

‘I’m afraid it’s very simple, sir. Shortly before the consultant visited on his rounds, the previous police guard went off shift and was replaced by another PC who had never seen Dr Crisp. The consultant was, apparently, wearing scrubs, with a cap and a mask hanging loose over his chin. The new PC hadn’t taken a close look at him. When Crisp came out, some minutes later, dressed in this kit, he had no reason to question him.’

‘I’m holding you personally responsible for Dr Crisp’s escape, Roy,’ Pewe said.

Despite Pewe’s currently senior rank, Grace jabbed a finger at him. ‘No, sir, you’re the one responsible. I emailed you, after we’d learned his injury was self-inflicted, that this might be an escape plan and recommended that we should ask the Metropolitan Police to double up on his guard, which you rejected for cost reasons knowing that they would recharge Sussex Police.’