Of all the dumb fucking luck.

His shocked reaction was not lost on the woman, he could see that. When she spoke again her words tumbled out fast, concern evident in her voice.

‘Mr Penfold, again for the benefit of the tape, you seem to be expressing considerable surprise at the few questions I’ve asked so far. Am I misinterpreting your body language, Mr Penfold? Or is there something you wish to tell us?’

Penfold looked from Levy to Chadwick. Then to Hughes. He was searching for something. Reassurance? An explanation? He didn’t know himself, but nothing was coming.

Enough was enough.

‘What the fuck are you goin’ on about?’

Penfold’s voice was deep. That was unsurprising; he was a big man, as tall as Chadwick and wider than Steven Hale. Levy had already noticed his arms, which seemed to have no wrists. Just thick forearms that connected directly to huge hammer fists.

‘What I’m going on about, Mr Penfold, are the murders of Phillip Longman and Adam Blunt. The murders for which you were arrested.’

‘The what?’ Penfold’s shock was convincing. ‘Are you fuckin’ serious?’

‘You’re here, aren’t you?’ The answer came from Chadwick.

‘Yeah, I’m ’ere. But not for that, surely?’

Levy’s unease was worsening. His reaction seemed much too real to be an act. She pressed on, desperately hoping that she was wrong.

‘What else, Mr Penfold? What else did you think you were arrested for?’

‘Not the fuckin’ murder of a judge. And definitely not Adam fuckin’ Blunt. I ’ad nothin’ to do with any of that. I couldn’t ’ave. I didn’t even know Blunt was alive, let alone that someone killed ’im.’

Levy glanced towards Chadwick. He shook his head. Almost imperceptibly. It seemed that he had read Penfold’s reaction in the same way. It seemed genuine.

But they could not just accept their instincts. Penfold had to be tested.

Levy turned back to the suspect.

‘Mr Penfold, the judge who sentenced you to life imprisonment was murdered four days ago. Your lawyer, who refused to appeal that sentence, was murdered two days ago. Both in an identical and highly unusual way. In the weeks leading up to these crimes you abandoned your reporting responsibilities as a paroled offender on a life licence, which allowed you to go off the radar. And then today you attempted to flee the country. In the course of your capture you assaulted two individuals. Both of whom are currently critical in hospital, one of whom is unlikely to survive the night. Do you expect us to believe that this is all coincidence?’

‘I don’t give a shit what you believe.’ Penfold seemed outraged. ‘I’ve done what I’ve done, but I ain’t bein’ put on offer for two murders I knew nothin’ about. Am I upset the old bastards are dead? No. No I ain’t. Not one bit. But I didn’t kill either of ’em.’

‘Then what were you running from today?’ Chadwick asked the obvious question. ‘Because you were running, weren’t you?’