Niall shrugged again. ‘Am I right that they have to release me this morning or charge me?’

Rattigan shook his head. ‘They can apply for a further extension and, with the evidence they have, they would almost certainly get it.’

Niall Paternoster looked bleakly down at the table in front of him. ‘You don’t believe me, do you? I love Eden, why would I harm her?’

‘If I had a pound for every client who’d said that, I would be a lot wealthier than I am, Mr Paternoster, believe me.’

‘What do I have to do to convince you – and the police?’

‘At this stage, we need proof that Eden is alive and well.’

‘And how do you suggest I find that while I’m locked up in here?’

Rattigan nodded. ‘As I said, the evidence against you isn’t looking good, so far, from what I’ve heard. It seems to be both clear-cut and damning. But you’re saying it’s a stitch-up. I’d very much like to hear your reasons why you feel that in light of all we’ve heard.’

Niall Paternoster told him.

57

Wednesday 4 September

‘Hello my name is Nadine’ greeted Roy and Cleo Grace in the Intensive Care reception and led them straight back into the Relatives’ Room. She deflected their questions on how Bruno had fared overnight with a pleasant but non-committal, ‘Dr Williams, the Intensive Care consultant, will be briefing you on Bruno’s condition. I can tell you that he had a comfortable night after surgery, with no dramatic changes.’

She offered, as before, to get them drinks and – as if it was Groundhog Day, Roy thought – returned a short while later with a glass of water for Cleo and a coffee with an extra shot of espresso for him, then left them alone.

Cleo squeezed his hand. ‘Maybe he’s improved overnight,’ she said.

‘Then he can go home and murder more hens?’ Immediately, Grace, who was feeling tired and fractious, regretted saying that. ‘I’m sorry, darling, that was insensitive. I didn’t mean it that way, we don’t even know for sure it was him.’

She gave him a look, a gentle, knowing smile that said, Yes, sadly, we do.

Five minutes later, as they entered the curtained-off area, Roy Grace reeled with shock at the sight of Bruno. He looked even smaller and even more dwarfed by all the technology around him than before. But it wasn’t this which gripped his gullet and twisted his gut. It was the sight of the bolt sticking out of the top of the small boy’s head. He had to pinch his mouth with his hand to stop himself from crying out.

From the corner of his eye, he could see that Cleo, who was used to the most terrible sights daily in her work, was shocked too.

The intracranial bolt the consultant had talked about was just exactly that. Somehow he’d been expecting something else – although he didn’t know what. Just something tiny taped to his skull, perhaps. But not this.