Two Ford Transit police vans, a patrol car and an armed response vehicle tore along the A685 towards the village of Grayrigg. James, Abbott and Stevens followed in a pool car.

The road ran through miles of undulating countryside with steep, rugged hills in the distance on both sides. There was plenty of snow, but not enough to slow them down.

‘Let’s just hope we’re not wasting our time,’ Abbott said from the back seat.

‘I’m optimistic. The description the caller gave of the place was similar to the one you got from Amy Bell,’ Stevens, who was driving, said. ‘There’s an old farmhouse, plus a converted barn which is let out to groups who want to hold parties and raves. That must be why the owner calls it Bash Barn.’

It sounded promising, and James was hoping to God that Neil Savage would be there. He was still their main suspect as the evidence against Dean Foreman and Kenneth O’Connor remained inconclusive. There certainly wasn’t enough to persuade the Crown Prosecution Service to press ahead with a case against either of them.

Their destination wasn’t hard to find. After coming off the A685 just before Grayrigg, they followed a narrow lane for about half a mile and there it was. The place was extremely remote and surrounded by a winter wonderland of fells and moors.

There was no gate, just an opening in the hedge that led to a spacious yard and a stone-built house with an attached garage. Off to the left about fifty yards away stood the two-storey converted barn, which was twice the size of the house. There were three cars parked outside it, plus a motorbike.

The police vehicles pulled up in front of the house. Within seconds the yard was packed with uniforms and a man wearing a startled expression could be seen staring out of one of the ground-floor windows of the house.

The same man then pulled the front door open just as James reached it. He was short and plump, and James guessed he was at least seventy.

‘What the fuck is going on?’ the man said.

‘Are you Mr Damien Porter?’ James asked, showing his ID.

‘Yes I am. Why are you …’

James cut him off. ‘I need to know if your barn is occupied at the moment.’

Porter’s eyes darted between James and the armed officers who were fanning out across the yard.

‘I don’t get it,’ he said. ‘That lot haven’t been any trouble. And there are no other houses for miles, so who the hell has complained?’

‘We’re not here because of a noise nuisance, Mr Porter. We’re looking for a man named Neil Savage, who might well be dangerous. And we’ve reason to believe that he could be among the group who are here.’