There was some space for him behind the seats. Not much, but it might be enough. I put the bag on the passenger seat and set to work. First, I tried to squeeze him in with his knees folded to his chin. When that didn’t work, I used a series of swift downward strikes until his legs broke at the knee. That helped me push him to the floor, at which point I heard a thin sharp crack, which must have been his spine. An image suddenly flashed into my mind of the look on his face when he’d seen the gun. I forced it away. It wasn’t Chief I was doing this to - it was just a lump of flesh that would soon become part of the soil, as we all did at some point . . . And as I would too sooner rather than later if I didn’t focus.

I took off my coat and draped it over him, partly so he wouldn’t be seen on the road, more to hide his unmoving stare. Then I walked around the car, stretching my legs, feeling the rain on my forehead, trying to rid my mind of bullets and broken bones and formulate a workable strategy to get me out of this hole. I had a rendezvous with Vanessa at midnight. Miss it, and I’d have some awkward questions to answer later on. Make it, and it would avert suspicion, although the idea made me queasy inside. The last person I wanted to see now was Vanessa - let alone use her as an alibi. I snapped out of it. I wasn’t about to be hanged because of an attack of qualms.

I climbed into the front seat and put the key in the ignition. The house was in my rear-view mirror, dark and deserted under the sliver of moon. I had a sudden memory of school: holidays when I’d stayed behind, the gloom of empty dormitories in the dark.

I started her up, and began to move off slowly.

Winding through the empty lanes at about twenty miles an hour with the lights dimmed, the urge to push the pedal and leave it all behind was almost overpowering. But I couldn’t yet risk it. I didn’t want to wake people up.

I’d gone about ten miles when I came to a call box. I parked on the verge, went in, and put in a collection of sixpences. Nothing happened. I cursed and was just about to hang up when I got through.

‘Yes?’ said a gruff voice.

‘Something is going to fall like rain,’ I said. ‘And it won’t be flowers.’

‘Pardon?’

Oh, Christ.

‘Something is going to fall like rain - and it won’t be flowers.’