Two steps more and I would have to kill him. I had killed Chief so that Pritchard would not suspect me of being the traitor. But if he discovered me now, with Chief and the debris from his murder beneath my feet, it wouldn’t have helped me much.

The debris beneath my feet. I opened my eyes a fraction and looked down. I could see the Becherovka label, and a small greyish lump. Chief’s sandwich.

Pritchard had his back to me now, turning to see where Fizz had gone. Taking care not to brush against any branches, I crouched down very slowly and picked up the sandwich. The rain had transformed it into a knot of mush. With my hand still an inch or so above the ground, I flicked the thing with my wrist, as though I were skipping a stone, in the direction of the riverbank.

Fizz barked at the rustle in the leaves, and ran over to see what it was.

Pritchard waited a few seconds, and then followed.

I stepped back another pace, deeper into shadow, and looked up to count the stars to calm myself. I couldn’t make out much through the spitting rain, though, so I soon gave up and tried to peek over towards where I’d thrown the sandwich.

Where were they?

And then I saw Fizz emerging from the undergrowth a few feet down. The dog had a bird in its mouth, and Pritchard was laughing and calling it a stupid beast and then he took it by the scruff of the neck and they set off back up the drive.

Pritchard walked round the house and rapped on the windows again, then went back to try the front door again. He was puzzled and frustrated now, but finally he marched back to the car, the buttons of his coat clinking as he walked, stroking Fizz’s ears with one hand.

The sound of the engine faded. I waited a few minutes, still breathing at the same slow pace, until I was sure he was not returning. Then I set about putting everything back into the bag. I picked it and Chief’s body up again, and made my way through the bracken to the car.