‘Someone notify Janet Monroe that we have a suspect and will be moving in on him shortly. And tell her good job for suggesting the bait operation,’ Ava said. ‘Let’s get moving. There are units already on route to secure a one-street circular perimeter around his home and to ensure his car doesn’t leave in the meantime. Five minutes until we go.’

She waited until the crowd had dispersed.

‘Is it wrong to want the armed units to mishear a signal and just shoot him straight away?’ Ava whispered quietly to Tripp.

‘Just as long as you don’t actually suggest it to anyone, I think you’re allowed to wish for whatever you want, ma’am,’ Tripp said.

Chapter Thirty-Four

17 March

The Crow wasn’t at home. He’d been there until half an hour earlier, waiting for the light to fade from the sky. Now, he was sitting outside a block of flats, looking up at the third floor, trying to figure out which windows belonged to Janet Vargas. He was pumped, physically and metaphorically.

It had been a strange sort of day, with a variety of demands on his time, but he’d found thirty minutes to lift weights. He could see the changes in his body since he’d consumed the bird. He was more wiry, every muscle and vein defined as if he were an anatomical pencil sketch of himself.

The power he held within was more impressive still. His mind was working with an energy and precision he’d never experienced before. Making decisions was easy, reading other people and staying a step ahead of them had become second nature. But the need for more, to consume more and become more, was like a chain dragging him by the guts onwards. It was an insatiable appetite. If he didn’t feed it, it would start to consume him instead. So Janet Vargas was a risk, but one he was certain he could afford to take. Not carelessly, though.

He waited in his car, watching for people approaching the flats. A single male went by, and that wasn’t right. Then an elderly lady, but she was already looking like thunder. Approaching her would be like setting off an alarm.

It took another hour before exactly the right set of circumstances presented themselves. A young mother walked down the street looking hassled, with two kids in tow and another in a pram. The Crow put on his biggest smile and his most relaxed but reassuring voice, keeping his keys in his right hand and filling his other arm with a bag of grocery shopping from the nearest supermarket.

Since he’d become The Crow, little details like that had become more obvious to him. Want to look unthreatening? Fill a shopping bag with some cheap-brand nappies, chocolate breakfast cereal, washing-up liquid, teabags, oven chips and a bunch of nice but inexpensive flowers from the bucket at the supermarket door.