Enfield frowns again while he thinks.

It’s excruciating. Tyler tries to bite his lip, and fails. “Look, if you know something that relates to my case, I need to hear it.”

Enfield snorts out a laugh. “Jesus Christ, one minute you’re not interested; the next you’re accusing me of withholding information.” His hands tighten on the arms of the chair. “If you don’t want to hear this, don’t waste my time.”

A temper. He thinks before he acts because he’s a big man with a short fuse. Tyler holds his hands up in mock surrender. “Sorry. I just want to know what you think. You clearly have more experience of these things than I do.”

The hands relax and Enfield smiles, the tension gone as quickly as it appeared. He laughs again, but this time he seems genuinely amused. “Nice try at buttering me up.”

“I thought I was being subtle.”

“As a sledgehammer.”

He has a nice smile, nicer than the scowl anyway.

“Same arsonist, or not? Gut feeling.”

“Six years is a long time,” Enfield says, rubbing his chin again. “Arsonists are creatures of habit. It would be highly unusual for someone to stop setting fires for that length of time and then start up again.”

“But not impossible? What might cause it?”

“Pyromania is an impulse-control disorder, a mental illness. The fire starting is either for gratification or to relieve tension. In either case, a major event in the perpetrator’s life could stop the cycle. And restart it.”

“A death in the family?”

Enfield nods slowly. “It’s possible.”

“What about the discovery of a body?”

The hand moves round to the back of his head, and there’s a crunch as the man cracks his neck. “There’s another possibility. He could have been in prison, or he could have moved to the area recently from somewhere else. I can look into that.”

“‘He’?”

Enfield grins again. “Ninety percent of pyromaniacs are men. Other than that there’s nothing to exclude the possibility this is a woman.” Then the brow furrows and he grows serious again. “Look. I’ve seen this before. I can’t prove it, I don’t have the evidence you’re looking for, but this is a pyromaniac. Sooner or later someone is going to get hurt, probably by accident, but still, that’s why I came to you. You need to take this seriously.”

Tyler meets the man’s eyes and nods solemnly. “Will you keep me up to date?”

Enfield extracts another of the small white rectangles and scribbles a number on the back. “My mobile,” he says. “You can reach me on that. Anytime.” There’s something about the pause before the last word that suggests something more.