James felt sure that in both these scenarios the threat to kill people was an empty one. He was less certain about the worst-case scenario Annie had put forward – that a crazed serial killer might have decided to target people in Kirkby Abbey. It seemed highly unlikely, but James knew that it wasn’t unknown for serial killers to taunt the police with letters and phone calls and to issue warnings about crimes they were planning to commit.

It made him think about the first message:

Twelve days. Twelve murders. Twelve victims. And they all deserve what’s coming to them.

Could it really be that a group of people in this quiet village had incurred the wrath of a genuine psychopath, someone who was living amongst them? And now he or she was determined to exact revenge?

A piercing cry from outside broke his contemplation, causing the hairs to stir on the back of his neck.

The priest heard it too and reacted by rushing over to the window behind the desk.

‘What’s happening?’ James asked. ‘It sounds like someone is angry or upset.’

‘I think you’re right on both counts, Detective. The poor man appears to be in a terrible state.’

James stepped up behind him and peered through the window. He saw a rough-looking man waving his fists in the air and yelling at the sky. He was wearing a green parka and black woollen hat.

‘Do you know him, Father?’

‘Indeed, I do. And I also know what has brought on this reaction.’

‘Oh?’

The priest gave a slow nod. ‘The headstone on his mother’s grave has been defaced again. I saw it yesterday afternoon and had planned to do something about it this morning, but it slipped my mind after I opened the card.’

‘So it’s happened before then?’

‘I’m afraid so. Sadly, Mr Patel is considered fair game for the vandals who get their kicks from damaging and destroying things that don’t belong to them.’

James snapped his head towards the priest. ‘I’m sorry, Father, but what did you say his name was?’

‘It’s Patel. Keith Patel. His mother Nadia died in tragic circumstances a year ago this very week. And he still hasn’t come to terms with losing her.’

CHAPTER SEVEN

James followed the priest as he hurried into the churchyard. By the time they reached Keith Patel he’d stopped wailing and was just standing there, staring down at his mother’s grave.

He turned when he heard them approach, and anger and distress were evident in his expression. His eyes were slits, teeth clenched, and his voice cracked with emotion when he said, ‘It’s the third time the fuckers have done this. Everyone knows who they are but they get away with it because nobody but me gives a toss.’

‘That’s not true, Keith,’ Father Silver said. ‘I care and so do most other people. This is the work of mindless vandals. But rest assured, it won’t take me long to clear it up just as I’ve done before.’