When he entered the police station, everyone was busy preparing for an operation. He needed to move fast. He got to his desk and switched on his computer. Soon he was reading exactly what the crew had reported. Vic jumped up and ran to DI Jackman’s office.

‘Sir! Before you go, please listen to this.’

Jackman looked at him, mildly surprised. ‘Sorry, Vic, but we don’t have much time. We have the drone unit already on their way.’

‘I think I can help.’ Vic looked at him, begging him to listen. ‘Shields! The man who hurt Dr Archer. He was apprehended on the Fen lane towards Stone Quay. I’ve only just realised that he wasn’t heading out that way, he was coming back!’

Jackman stared. ‘Okay, tell me everything. But hurry.’

‘The crew who nabbed him were looking for a stolen car taken by joyriders, and Stone Quay is a favourite spot for setting them on fire. The thing is, they met him coming towards them as they went down to the river. He was ranting about someone taking advantage of his generosity, someone who had gone somewhere without his permission. He mentioned the words “his hideaway.”’

‘So Shields knows Spiller!’ Jackman’s eyes flashed. ‘And he’s still downstairs in the custody suite?’

Vic nodded.

‘Come on! If you’re right, he can tell us what we’ll be up against when we get there.’

It seemed to take hours to get the custody sergeant to sanction an unscheduled interview prior to a second psych assessment, but finally Shields was brought to the interview room.

He seemed puzzled by their questions, claiming to know nothing about his arrest. He had no memory of driving at all.

‘Then please tell us about the Hideaway, Mr Shields.’

‘The Hideaway? Why?’

Vic could sense Jackman almost quivering with tension.

‘Please. Just tell us about it, I’ll explain why in a minute,’ Vic said urgently.

‘It’s little more than a hut down on Lapwing Creek. It belonged to my grandfather. He collected samphire and caught eels and sold them in the local market. He used to have a little rowing boat moored there. When he died, he left it to me, and I’d go there whenever I needed some space. That’s all there is to it.’ He still looked puzzled.

‘But you allowed a friend of yours to use it too,’ said Jackman impatiently. ‘Jordan Spiller?’

Shields nodded. ‘So what? He was screwed up over his wife and needed somewhere even more than I did. And he loved the water and the birds. That’s how we met.’

‘And he’s there now?’

Shields gave them a blank look. ‘How would I know?’