‘Never mind.’ Sarah squeezed his shoulder. ‘You made her day better. Now if it’s OK with your mummy, I think I owe you a chocolate bar.’ His face brightened as they headed back down to the hospital shop. If Libby had said anything to him, he wasn’t ready to share it with her, and she wasn’t going to push. She saw a little of herself in Elliott. She knew how hard it was, standing beneath the shadow of authority as question after question was fired at you. But Elliott was a good kid – thoughtful, caring and kind. She needed to handle him with care.

She glanced down at the newspaper nestled in her bag. Could the same be said for Christian Abraham? At first she thought his odd behaviour was down to living with his mother for longer than seemed good for him. He seemed awkward in her company, even furtive as he failed to meet her eye. Being his mother’s carer from an early age must have affected him. But being introverted was not a crime. He had a job; he may not be the most charismatic member of the community, but it didn’t make him a killer.

It wasn’t just the newspaper photo which linked Christian to Angelica though, his fingerprints had turned up at Blackhall Manor too. Her DI had been quick to rule him out, given his occupation. He managed the building, after all. But was it more than a coincidence that Christian was at Blackhall when Libby was found? What if he hadn’t been saving her? What if he had returned to silence her for good, but changed his plan when she tried to escape? If it was designed to get the police off his scent it had worked. Now he would be deemed a hero rather than a suspect.

Sarah thought again about the sombre photograph at the graveside, and the lone figure with bowed head. Had Christian been the one to bury Angelica the first time around?

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