The Rollright Stones, out in the direction of Long Compton, were a series of Neolithic and Bronze Age megaliths, whose mysterious origins made them as revered as Stonehenge. Popular explanations ranged from the stones once being the King and his knights, turned to stone by a witch, to the site being the King’s burial ground – all without satisfactorily identifying which ‘King’ they actually related to. Either way, the myths surrounding the stones brought tourists and film crews from miles around. The King’s Men stones stood in a circle; the Whispering Knights formed a huddled group; and The King’s Stone stood alone behind a waist-high circular fence. Jack waited in the open field, the cold wind blowing through his coat and straight into his bones. But he hardly noticed, there was so much going through his head. Mainly he was worried that his performance as Richard Delaware had not been as convincing as he’d originally thought, and now De Voe suspected the police were on to him and his gang. And he was worried that as a consequence he’d put Charlotte in danger – the one thing he swore he’d never do.

As if on cue, Charlotte emerged from a distant treeline and started hurrying towards him. He recalled the first time they’d met on her smallholding in the heart of this beautiful part of the world that she so fondly called home . . . She commanded the space with a confidence that came from being at one with her environment. Charlotte did not appear confident now. She didn’t stride, she scurried. She didn’t command the space around her, she feared it. With one phone call from De Voe, her home had been psychologically taken from her and she was scared to the point of wanting to run away and leave it all behind.

‘I gave him the five addresses you told me to,’ Charlotte began. ‘But he’s not going to hit them during the annual equestrian event next week.’ Charlotte was so desperate to deliver all of the information that was muddling her head, and then leave as quickly as possible, that she hardly paused for breath. ‘On the evening before the opening ceremony, there’s going to be a launch party. It’s not usually part of the proceedings, but Barrowman’s organised it as an extra. It’s going to be this huge buffet dinner in a marquee, to raise money for St Barnabas’s in Gloucester – that’s Mathew’s old school. Everyone’s coming. After the attack on Mathew, I think guilt set in and now he’s making amends in the only way he knows how – by throwing money around. So anyway, that’s when De Voe will hit the homes. On the day before the equestrian event even starts. That’s the day after tomorrow!’