A degree of luck as well as solid team work had got them to this point. If Nash had succeeded in killing himself when he crashed his van then they would still be flailing in the dark. And if he hadn’t been eavesdropping on the Bateman family on Christmas Eve, he wouldn’t have heard Mary spill her guts in what sounded like a fit of pique.

James ran through it all in his mind as he drove along the dark, deserted country road towards Kirkby Abbey.

He’d told Annie to expect him at about eight and he was looking forward to the stew she’d said she had prepared.

He was just over halfway there when another car drew up behind and started tailgating him. Its headlights were on full beam and James felt his hackles rise.

‘Impatient prick,’ he said out loud to himself as he lowered his side window, poked his arm out, and waved the other driver on.

The car was quick to overtake, but instead of surging ahead it braked sharply, forcing James to stamp on his own brake pedal.

It then stopped altogether at an angle across the road that made it impossible for James to get around.

He saw the driver jump out and rush towards him. It looked like a man but his head was lowered so his face wasn’t visible.

James’s first thought was that he must be a fellow officer who had a very good reason for forcing him to stop.

But as James pushed his own door open and stepped out, he got the shock of his life.

James did know him. But the guy standing before him wasn’t a copper.

It was Andrew Sullivan.

And he was holding a revolver that was aimed at James’s stomach.

CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT

James felt his insides freeze as he stared at his nemesis.

He’d recognised him instantly even though he looked very different to the last time he saw him in the flesh about three years ago.

He was wearing a baggy hoodie that covered his bald head and a thick beard coated his square chin. But the scar on his right cheek was still visible and so too were those deep, dark eyes that James had always found so unsettling.

He’d put on weight, but for a man who was approaching sixty he still looked fairly fit and threatening.

‘Long time no see, Detective Inspector Walker,’ he said with a crooked smile. ‘Bet I’m the last person you expected to bump into.’

James felt his body grow rigid as he looked from Sullivan’s face to the gun in his hand.

‘Are you out of your fucking mind?’ he said.

Sullivan shook his head. ‘Surprised to see me? You probably thought I was no longer a threat to you, but I made it my mission to get even with you before I depart these shores.’