Kershaw looked him in the face and said quickly, “I telephoned and told her. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to rest. I’m glad you came, but we won’t see each other again. If you’d be good enough to press that bell by the bed, Charles will escort you to the front door.”

He held out his hand. The grasp was still firm but the blaze in the eyes had died. Something had been shut down. With Charles waiting for him at the open door, Dalgliesh turned to take a last look at Kershaw. He was sitting in his chair, staring in silence at the empty grate.

Dalgliesh had hardly clipped on his seatbelt when his mobile rang. It was Detective Inspector Andy Howard. The note of triumph in his voice was disciplined but unmistakable.

“We’ve got him, sir. A local lad, as we suspected. Been questioned four times previously about sex attacks but never charged. The justice department will be relieved that it’s not another illegal immigrant or someone released on bail. And, of course, we’ve got his DNA. I’m a bit worried about the way in which we keep the DNA if there’s no charge, but this isn’t the first case in which it’s been useful.”

“Congratulations, Inspector. Do you know if there’s a chance he may plead guilty? It would be good to spare Annie the ordeal of a trial.”

“Every chance, I’d say, sir. The DNA isn’t the only evidence we’ve got but it’s clinching, and it’ll be quite a time before that lass is fit to stand in any witness box.”

It was with a lighter heart that Dalgliesh shut his mobile. And now he needed to find a place where he could sit for a time alone and in peace.

Chapter 9

9

He drove westwards from Bournemouth until, taking the coast road, he found a place where he could stop the car and look out to sea over Poole Harbour. In the last week, his mind and energies had been occupied only with the deaths of Rhoda Gradwyn and Robin Boyton, but now there was his future to face. Choices had been placed before him, most of them demanding or interesting, but until now he had given them little thought. Only one life-changing thing was certain: his marriage to Emma, and about that there was no doubt, nothing but the certainty of joy.