The owner showed them to a table, bantering with Ray and Willie as he offered them the wine list.

‘Tom knows what he wants, don’t you?’ Ray said.

His boss didn’t answer.

‘Tom. Hello?’

The inspector looked up.

‘Sorry, what?’

‘What wine were you after?’

‘Oh. Sorry. The Barolo, please.’

‘A pint for me,’ Willie said.

‘I only have Guinness or bottles of Italian lager,’ the owner explained.

‘Jaysus, nothing foreign. Guinness will do.’

‘You’re in an Italian restaurant, what do you mean, “nothing foreign”?’ Ray quipped. ‘What are you planning to eat?’

‘They do steak, don’t they?’

Ray shook his head.

They perused the menu.

‘What are you thinking, boss?’ Willie asked.

‘Ah, it’s probably nothing.’

‘I was referring to the menu, but normally when you say that, it’s something.’

Tom smiled.

‘Well, just there I was thinking about those markings that Emmet found indented on the letter we got, allegedly from Charlie Lane. I feel like their meaning is on the tip of my tongue. It’s like I’ve a bloody crossword clue stuck in my head.’

‘Now, gentlemen, your wine and one Guinness. Who’d like to try it?’

‘He’s the expert.’ Ray pointed to Tom.

The wine was perfectly drinkable, but it left a bitter taste in Tom’s mouth.

Because as he sipped, it came to him as clear as day.

There was no hope of finding Fiona Holland alive.

They’d been idiots thinking that letter had come from Lane.

And it hadn’t been from a crank.

Her killer had sent it.

CHAPTER 41

Tom woke up feeling fresh and ready for what he had to do.

He turned on his side and watched Louise sleeping peacefully beside him. She’d arrived home late last night but he’d still been awake when she climbed into bed and snuggled up to him. He’d wrapped his arms around her and they’d fallen asleep like that, but somehow in the night their limbs had become disentangled.

Her auburn hair had fallen onto her face and he tucked it behind her ear, running his fingers tenderly over her cream cheek, bathed in the morning sunlight. She opened her eyes and looked at him.

‘I know how lucky I am to have you,’ he said, his voice throaty.

‘Bloody right, you are.’ She smiled, but with sadness. It didn’t feel fair to be so grateful for each other when Sean was waking up alone this morning, yet again. But she knew it was only natural that Sean’s loss would remind them of what they had.

‘You’ve got to the bottom of it, haven’t you?’ she said, studying him.

‘The case? Yes. How can you tell?’