Adrian had been following Finn Blackwell for around twenty minutes; they had gone back on themselves a couple of times and through some very small alleyways. They started to walk towards the Cowley Bridge. Finn’s pace had changed, this was clearly where he had planned to go; they were headed for his final destination. He reached the periphery of the Taddyforde estate inside the conservation area outside the lower end of town. All the houses here were well known for their architecture. Neo-Gothic, like many of the other properties in Exeter. These particular houses were built in Victorian times from local stone in the mid-nineteenth century. Knowing what Adrian knew about Finn Blackwell, he couldn’t imagine he had any family in this particular area and so maybe he was going to see someone else, someone who had something to do with the case. He hadn’t requested for anyone to be informed of his whereabouts when he was at the station and he had not asked for any legal advice either. Everything they knew about Finn Blackwell was in the very thin file they had on him at the station and that didn’t amount to much at all. His family – a single mother and sister – lived in another county and he didn’t have any familial links in Exeter. So where was he going?

Finn stopped at a house with a roughly seven-foot wall surrounding it, then disappeared down the passage that ran alongside the building. Adrian heard the wheezing creak of a gate opening. He had gone inside.

Adrian waited a few seconds before following Finn down the path. He peered in through the gate and saw the house. It looked to be empty, for all intents and purposes; there were no lights on. The moon lit up the grounds, which were a little on the dishevelled side; basic maintenance had been done on the garden, but nothing with pride or love. The house itself was very imposing; it had steep pitched roofs and small gables. There were two octagonal turrets that made Adrian think of a castle in a fairy story.

The sinister feeling grew worse the closer he got to the actual property – it was almost like a low hum. Adrian was both relieved that Imogen wasn’t with him because he would be concerned for her safety, but he also kind of wished she was because he was concerned for his.

He took a deep breath before stepping inside the gate into the garden. Luckily Finn had left the gate open, so Adrian didn’t have to worry about the noise as he squeezed himself through the gap. The house itself gave off a coldness, if that was even possible; there was a bad feeling here. It was the kind of feeling that would have made Adrian’s mother insist on getting a priest in to bless the place and clean the air.

After carefully inspecting the perimeter of the house, Adrian saw Russ’s silver Ford Focus tucked away under a lean-to. Was Finn meeting Russ here?