‘We’re doing all we can, you know.’ Kate’s voice was soft and Patrick felt a moment’s fleeting guilt. Then it was replaced by apprehension. If she only knew what he was going to do . . . It would be the end for them. What he had done to Danny Burrows would be nothing to how she would feel when Markham was found murdered. Patrick didn’t care if he was caught, as long as the man paid the price.

Kate was worried. He looked as taut as a bowstring. It was as if he knew a devastating secret but couldn’t tell anyone.

‘Have you eaten, Pat?’

Patrick could not help smiling. She sounded just like his mother: whenever there was a crisis or an upset she wanted to feed everyone.

Food was a woman’s way of healing.

If only it was that easy.

‘Come here.’ It was a command.

She put down her drink and went to him. She stood in front of him, her hands on her hips.

‘I’m not sure I like your tone!’

She was laughing and Patrick felt a feeling in his gut, like a hand gripping his entrails.

He knew what she was trying to do. She thought he was having a bad day over Mandy and was trying to cheer him up.

She was good. Kate was a good woman.

He pulled her on to his lap and put his hand up her jumper, rubbing at the soft skin of her breasts.

‘Oh, Kate . . .’ It was a heartfelt cry, and she felt it like a physical blow.

‘Patrick, tell me what’s wrong. I want to try and help you. Are you in some kind of trouble?’

‘No. Nothing like that, I swear to you.’

‘Then why are you like this? Is it Mandy? It’s as if you’re on tenterhooks for some reason.’ Her voice lowered. ‘It is Mandy, isn’t it?’

He could tell her the truth about that anyway.

‘Yeah . . . it’s about Mandy.’

‘You’re missing her? It’s perfectly natural, you know. It often hits people suddenly. I’ve seen it before.’

Her earnest face stared into his and he felt his heartbeat speeding up.

He wanted to tell her that he missed her every second of the day; that it was there with him when he opened his eyes in the morning and when he closed them at night. Even his dreams were no escape from the feelings of futility. But now he had the perpetrator within his grasp and tonight he was going to commit murder. And he couldn’t wait!