The IP address Enfield gave her led to the comms room, where it was easy enough to trace which terminal the blog entries were uploaded from. “Then,” she says, “it was just a case of checking who had access to that terminal at the right times. They were mostly posted early in the morning when there were only a few people in the building. Less chance of getting caught, I guess.” When she saw the name on the list of employees Rabbani shivered. “Ask Sophie Denham,” Tyler had said to her earlier, “if a girl called Sally-Ann Digby ever visited the Old Vicarage.” She didn’t know who Sally-Ann Digby was when she spoke to Denham, but she knew whatever theory Tyler had, he must be on to something. She just never got the chance to tell him. She hopes that lack of information hasn’t cost him.

Again the car is silent for a time, the only sound the straining of the engine and the screech of tires desperately trying to stay on the tarmac.

“Why did she do it?” She’s talking to herself more than anything, but Doggett answers her anyway.

“How the fuck should I know?” he says. “’Cause she’s a bloody loon!”

“Do you think . . . ?” Enfield trails off.

Doggett glances in the mirror again. “I think we need to find them. Fast.”

When they reach the Old Vicarage, Rabbani knows they’ve made the right choice. The police tape across the drive has been broken. Tyler’s car is parked by the side of the road.

“Find Daley,” Doggett tells her. He turns to Enfield. “You stay here. This is still a crime scene, and I’ve got at least one officer missing.”

Rabbani notices a movement in the long grass. “Lily!” she shouts, recognizing the woman.

“Oi!” Doggett’s voice follows her up the driveway, but she ignores him.

Lily emerges from the grass and stumbles onto the gravel. Her clothes are smudged with dirt, and she has a tear in the thigh of her trousers. “Edna?” she says. “I couldn’t stop it.” She holds up two red palms. “I couldn’t stop the blood.”

Doggett arrives behind her. “Jesus Christ!”

Rabbani takes hold of the woman’s dangerously thin arms and Lily starts to cry. She can’t see any wounds on the woman. “It’s not hers,” she says. “I don’t think it’s hers. Lily, whose blood is this?”

“He said it wasn’t his fault,” she says. “Gerry told us all about it, but it wasn’t his fault. Cynthia goaded him into it.”

“Where’s DC Daley?” Doggett grabs Lily’s arm, causing her to cry out.

“That’s not helping,” Rabbani snaps, and Doggett raises an eyebrow at her.