‘Katie and Billy. He was standing over it with the shovel in his hand.’

Craig nodded as if that happened all the time. ‘I really need to see Mrs Hunt now.’

‘Like I said …’

‘Mr Farrel.’

‘I’ll tell her you’re here first.’

Gerry left to convey the news and Craig turned again to the remains of the dog. He walked forward to the edge of the gore and looked carefully at the mess. Looked like nobody had touched anything. The shovel was lying where it had been dropped beside the ice-box, and the carcass lay ripped open on its back, its head clearly split open by the blade of the shovel. But the belly was torn. Craig noted that. Torn away in huge ragged chunks, and what was left of the dog’s jaws appeared to contain some of the guts. Did Sam manage to do that with a shovel?

There was a noise behind him, and Katie, held up by Gerry’s wife, greeted him in the doorway with a shape made by her lips. She was rough all right. Her eyes were barely visible, lost in the puffy mess that crying had left, and her face had somehow grown older, grey in pallor, less full in the cheek. He could see why Farrel was talking about medical help. She looked like she was going to keel over.

Craig gestured to the hall behind them. ‘Let’s get out of here. Please.’ He steered them back towards the sitting room and Katie sat down heavily on the sofa with Ann. Craig sat in the chair opposite. He looked up at Gerry. ‘Can we be alone for a while?’

Ann looked at Katie. The wrecked woman nodded her consent. ‘Yeah. Could you check Billy’s still asleep? He might wake suddenly if that sleeping pill wears off. I don’t want him alone.’

Ann squeezed Katie’s hunched shoulder and got up. ‘Sure. Call us when you’re through.’ She threw Gerry a look and he followed her lead. They left the room quietly, and Craig waited until he heard them climb the stairs and open a door.

Katie Hunt looked at Craig through her red-rimmed slits of eyes. The cop-hating ice-maiden had gone. She looked relieved he was here.

‘He’s good with a shovel don’t you think?’

‘Want to tell me what happened?’

‘What you saw.’

‘You burst in and found him doing that?’

‘He’d already done it. Bart was dead.’ She wrestled a sob back. Her shoulders shook.

‘Why did he kill Bart?’

Katie crossed her arms, which had been limp by her sides, and hugged herself tight. She just shook her head, gulping, unable to speak. Craig leaned forward and clasped his hands over both knees. ‘Mrs Hunt …’

She looked up at him like a little girl.

‘Katie.’ He softened his voice. ‘Katie. The officer from Edmonton in charge of this investigation has issued a warrant for your husband’s arrest.’