Malcolm digested that. ‘What time does the sleeper leave exactly? Do you know?’

Having used it recently, he did. ‘Monday to Friday eight forty-five. Gets into Euston just before eight tomorrow morning.’ He wondered if she’d had time to get there. ‘Any idea when Joanne left Kath’s place?’

‘No, but I can check.’

He realized that the timing didn’t matter.

‘Even if she didn’t make tonight’s train, she’ll be away first thing tomorrow.’

‘D’you want to go looking for her?’ Malcolm said.

Greg shook his head. ‘She’s right to have gone. There’s nothing for her here. Who wants to stay with a suspected rapist and murderer?’

‘You’re not that,’ Malcolm said firmly.

‘Not to you and Kath maybe, but Josh Huntly definitely thinks so.’

‘Josh? How do you know what Josh thinks?’

‘Because he told me so at the police station. They have him up there for questioning.’

‘About what?’

That Greg didn’t know. ‘I presume the wrecking of the hot tub.’

Malcolm’s face clouded over. ‘Rumour was that he and Ailsa were a thing. Might he be a suspect too?’

‘If he killed Ailsa, why did he encourage his gang to wreck the hot tub, exposing her grave? That would be the last thing he’d want.’

He’d already gone over the Josh scenario when alone in his cell. He didn’t want to revisit it again now.

‘Thanks for the lift back.’

‘Well, if you need me for anything else, just let me know.’

Malcolm had looked as defeated as he felt, Greg thought, as he watched the car’s headlights disappear down the track towards the village.

Standing in the kitchen, he found a terrible weariness had entered his bones, but would he – could he – sleep? He poured himself a whisky and sat down to think and plan for tomorrow. He would have to report to Stratton and face poor Colin. He didn’t give a damn about Stratton but God knows what Colin thought of him.

Colin, whose biggest fear had been that his fingerprint might be found on the plastic, now had to face the fact he had a suspected rapist and murderer for a boss. He almost smiled at that.

Swallowing down his whisky, he decided he would take a shower before bed, hopefully ridding himself of the smell of his jail cell, but he was unprepared for the sight of the bathroom, all evidence of Joanne’s presence having disappeared. Some of her toiletries she’d obviously taken away. Some she’d discarded in the wastebasket.

He stood transfixed at the thought that she had really gone. She was never coming back. Ever. Until that moment, he hadn’t realized how he might really feel about that.