Clare glanced behind her. ‘Dammit. I’m sure that’s a press car behind Janey and Bill.’

‘We’ll lose them,’ Chris said.

‘Hope so. The last thing we need is an audience.’

They knew where they were going this time and were soon roaring up the narrow country road. As they approached the crossroads he killed the siren and slowed his speed. He drove slowly along, coasting the last couple of hundred yards, cutting the engine as he pulled into the side. Clare jumped out and waited until Bill and Janey appeared. Stationing them at the front door she went round one side of the cottage, directing Chris round the other. She took the grass instead of the gravel, her feet noiseless as she went. Gaby’s hire car still stood in the drive, a blue Renault next to it. Luke’s other hire car, she guessed. As she reached the back garden she saw a motorbike had been propped up against the shed, out of sight of the main door. Anyone entering the cottage at the front wouldn’t have seen it.

‘David Fox,’ she murmured. Goodness knows where he’d got his hands on a motorbike but she felt sure the bike was his. She caught Chris’s eye as he appeared from the other side of the cottage and he nodded to indicate he’d noticed it. Clare was about to approach the back door when a shout from Janey alerted them. They ran round to the front and in through the door which now stood open.

‘In here,’ Janey called.

They moved into a small sitting room. It was south-facing and the August sun streamed in the windows. The polished floor was oak, possibly the original tongue and groove boards, with a square Persian rug in the centre. A large dark wood coffee table sat in front of a fireplace with two red sofas angled round it. And on the furthest away of these sat a white-faced Luke Gasparini. Behind him, a kitchen knife held against Luke’s throat, stood David Fox.

Chapter 48

Bill had moved towards David but Clare waved him back. ‘David,’ she began.

‘Stay exactly where you are, Inspector,’ he said. ‘Or I’ll gut him like a fish.’

Luke Gasparini closed his eyes at this, his lips quivering as he struggled to hold onto his composure.

‘Why don’t you tell the officers what you did?’ David said. ‘You sleazy bastard.’

A sob escaped Luke’s mouth and he gasped in air. ‘N-nothing,’ he stammered. ‘Nothing.’

‘Liar!’ David pressed the knife closer to Luke’s throat. ‘You can’t even admit it.’

Luke was weeping now, his face contorted as he tried to control the sobs. ‘I… I didn’t…’

‘Right then,’ David said. ‘How about I tell the officers for you, eh?’

Clare moved further into the room. ‘David, you need to put the knife down. Then we can all talk about this.’