Constable Jarvis Strang was playing with the tuning fork that lived in the car glovebox for testing the radar.

‘Okay, Eddie. Listen.’

He banged it hard on the dash and put it right up close to his companion’s ear, making him whip his head away in irritation. Jarvis chuckled like a kid as Eddie put a finger in his ear and waggled it about.

‘Quit that, you asshole!’

Jarvis sighed and stared out the snowy windscreen again at the press cars that sat in Oriole Drive. The occupants would be as bored as they were. Except folk kept bringing them stuff, like coffee and french fries. No one brought the cops anything.

Jarvis sighed again, banged the tuning fork and hummed a harmony to it. The radio crackled. Eddie punched his colleague in the shoulder to shut him up.

‘Detachment Two Alpha Eight.’

Eddie pressed ‘talk’.

‘Two Alpha Eight.’

‘Can you get Staff Sergeant McGee out of there and back to the detachment? Over.’

‘Sure. Now? Over.’

‘Yeah. Soon as you can. Over.’

‘Will do. Over.’

Eddie reached over to the dash and grabbed his hat. Jarvis opened his door.

‘This don’t take two of us, Jarvis. I’m only going to ring the fucking doorbell.’

‘Need the air. My ass is numb.’

The two men got out of the car and crossed the road to the house. In front of the peeling blue door, the shaman, Hunting Wolf, stood watching them as they approached. The men walked either side of him, instinctively giving that three square feet of seemingly empty snow a wide berth, although neither would have noticed that they did or be able to say why. They stamped their feet on the step and rang the bell.

Sam watched them as if in a dream. Policemen, ringing his doorbell again. His state of purity was so intact, he felt no fear standing here beside them. As they waited, both men could smell delicious things. The smell of sweet grass, the delicate scent of wild roses blowing and clover trembling beneath a dew. Spring smells, that had no business wafting on the snow-filled air of winter. Neither mentioned it. It was crazy.

There was no reply. While Sam watched, Jarvis rang again, and blew a low meaningful whistle at his partner. ‘Looks like Mrs Hunt’s being pretty helpful with old Craig’s enquiries. Huh?’

Eddie gave a short snort of a laugh. ‘Blame him? You seen her?’

Jarvis rang again and this time put his face against the door and hollered. ‘Mrs Hunt! Police here. Not the press. Please open the door.’

Eddie smiled at his partner, and said in a stage-whisper, ‘And do up the buttons on your pants first, Craig.’

They sniggered, stopping abruptly when the door was opened by Katie.

And as they explained their quest, no one noticed the shaman walk up the steps between them and into the house.