Sick of thinking about himself, Adrian opened the report on Owen Sager’s staged suicide. The pathologist had told them that it would require some force to break his hyoid bone. Assuming it was the same person who had then attacked Caitlin, there should be some physical evidence on her. He wanted to get justice for her, even after what she had been forced to do to him.

Imogen walked in and sat down, letting out a huge sigh.

‘Bad?’ Adrian said.

She was wearing a police-issue tracksuit and her hair had been washed. Her clothes were obviously being processed to look for any evidence that it was foul play. He hadn’t actually spoken to Imogen since they parted after breakfast this morning. DCI Kapoor had informed Adrian of what had happened at Caitlin’s. He still hadn’t been cleared to leave desk duty.

‘We need to find out who is doing this and quickly,’ Imogen said. ‘I don’t want to walk into anything else like that as long as I live. Her grandfather is a hollow shell right now. He just sat there staring into space, her blood on his hands and face. There was nothing I could say. I couldn’t wait to get out of there.’

‘Why didn’t you call me?’

‘So many reasons, most of all to protect you: you can’t go anywhere near that place right now. You’re too close to this case. I thought it would be better coming from the DCI anyway. Don’t be mad.’

‘I understand. I’m not mad, just worried. Are you OK? That must have shaken you up.’ He wished he could go and hold her but that was out of the question here in the station.

‘Just seemed like such a waste. All of it, you know? Why does life shit on some people more than others? For all her faults that girl was chosen because she was vulnerable and easy to manipulate.’

‘I don’t know. I’m sure there’s some higher reasoning behind it, but as a lapsed Catholic I can’t tell you what it is. Free will or something.’

‘Don’t even go there.’

‘Exactly.’

‘What have you been doing?’ Imogen asked.

‘Looking into Sager and Beacham. Realistically, I’m not getting anywhere. I feel like I’m missing something obvious, but I can’t tell you what it is.’

‘Maybe you need to step back a bit.’

‘I don’t see how.’

‘Rather than looking for connections, focus on Beacham. We need to find him,’ Imogen said. She had that haunted expression they all got sometimes when you see something you wish you hadn’t seen. She was putting on a brave face, for him. Her mind was somewhere else.

‘How did she look?’

‘Dead, Adrian, she looked dead.’

‘You know what I mean. Did she suffer, do you think?’

‘We spoke to Nigel Watts and he said she was fine when he left for his morning service. He got back to the house at around nine thirty, by which point she had been left alone for two hours. We arrived there soon after and she had been dead a while. If someone else did it, they must have been waiting outside for the reverend to leave. I think it was quick; there was a lot of blood though.’