“It’s just a bloody book,” Maggie said. “But it was more than that to Dod. You all meant so much to him, and he was going to spend his last days seeing it all torn apart in front of him.”

“Did you mean to shoot him?” Rebus asked quietly.

She nodded, tears forming in her eyes. “I did it for all of you—because Dod couldn’t.”

“You don’t have to tell them that. You can say the gun went off by accident. Maybe your finger slipped, or he tried grabbing it from you…”

“More lies, eh, John?” She turned her head to look at the house. “What will he do without me?”

“Is there someone you can call?”

“Now, you mean?”

“You’ll have to come with us, Maggie.”

She thought for a moment. “His nephew’s been very good.”

“Maybe him, then.”

She nodded. “My phone’s in the kitchen.”

“Let’s go in.” He tried placing an arm around her shoulders, but she shrugged it off. Snatching the book from him, she spat on its cover, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand afterwards. Gently Rebus took the book from her and led her indoors.

While she made the call, he went into the living room. Fox was standing in the middle of the floor. Dod Blantyre was awake, and wanted to know what was going on.

“Where’s Maggie?” he demanded of Rebus.

“She’s on the phone. We need to take her to the station.”

“No.” The man was attempting to rise from his chair, head bobbing, legs twitching.

“Nothing you can do, Dod. Your nephew’s coming to look after you.”

But Blantyre had fallen to his knees. With Fox’s help, Rebus got him back into the chair, just as his wife appeared in the doorway, carrying her coat.

“Oh God,” she said, her hand going to her mouth.

“Don’t leave me, Maggie,” Blantyre implored. Then, to Rebus: “She didn’t do anything.”

“We still need to talk to her,” Rebus said gently.

“You don’t! You don’t!”

“Give me five minutes with him,” Maggie said, gripping Rebus’s forearm. “Wait in the car and I’ll come out.” Her eyes were pleading. “Just a few minutes.”

Rebus looked towards Fox and nodded, the two men filing out of the room and making for the door. Outside, as they walked down the path, Fox asked if she’d confessed.

“Pretty much,” Rebus said. He was carrying the Shadow Bible in one hand. Fox asked if it was what he thought it was. Rebus nodded. Fox unlocked the car and they got in.

“I’ll text Siobhan,” he said, taking out his phone. Then, after a pause: “This must be hard for you, John. Made me think about what I’d do if a close colleague went too far.”

“You’d turn them in, wouldn’t you?”