‘I wouldn’t be coming to you if they were on the case,’ said Gannon. ‘Interpol are on the lookout for him, but Carpenter won’t be travelling on his own passport.’

‘What about his family?’

‘They left the country the day after he was taken out of prison. Got on the Eurostar to Paris and vanished.’

Willis ran a finger round the lip of his glass. ‘You want me to get our guys active on the case?’

‘He killed one of yours.’

‘I know he did, but there’s no proof. If there was, we’d have had him back in the States.’

‘Couldn’t have been extradited, not with the death penalty a possibility.’

Willis grinned. ‘There are ways around that. We’d have had him. But, like I said, there’s the little matter of proof.’

‘The cops and the Church had proof, but Carpenter came close to getting off.’

‘Inside help, I hear,’ said Willis.

‘What big ears you have.’

Willis swirled his whiskey in the glass. ‘So, going back to your request, you want the DEA to find Carpenter, and then what?’

‘Put in a request for the Increment to go and get him.’

‘That’ll depend on where he is.’

‘He won’t be in the States, that’s for sure.’

‘And then what?’

‘We take him back to prison.’

Willis took a long pull on his whiskey, his eyes never leaving Gannon’s face. He put down his glass. ‘Are you sure about that, Allan?’

Gannon looked at Willis levelly. ‘Absolutely.’

‘Cross your heart?’

Gannon grinned. ‘And hope to die.’

The organist started to play a hymn that Shepherd could only dimly recall. Weddings and funerals were pretty much the only times that he walked on hallowed ground. The vicar closed his Bible and smiled reassuringly at the congregation. A small hand slipped into Shepherd’s. ‘Don’t be sad, Daddy.’

Shepherd smiled down at his son. They were sitting in the front pew at the small stone church down the road from the house where Moira and Tom lived. They’d wanted their daughter buried close to them and Shepherd had agreed. His in-laws were sitting in the same pew on Liam’s other side. Liam was in his school uniform, his shoes polished, his tie neat. Shepherd was wearing a suit.

‘I’m not sad,’ he said, and put an arm round his son to pull him close. That was a lie. He was sadder than he’d ever been in his life. He hadn’t had time to grieve for Sue while he’d been in prison, but as soon as it was all over the enormity of what he’d lost had washed over him.

‘What happens now?’ asked Liam.

‘We live our lives,’ said Shepherd. ‘We remember her all the time and we think about her and we miss her, but we have our lives to live.’

‘And then we see her again in Heaven?’

‘That’s right,’ said Shepherd.

‘Are you still going to be a policeman?’ asked Liam, squeezing his hand.

‘I’m not sure,’ said Shepherd, and that was true.