Then an odd passion filled Cormac’s cracked voice. “The first day—the first day I came here—the Hall held me fast. There was a warmth about it—I don’t know. But—Anne laughed at me, when she heard me tell a groom I’d give anything to live in such a place. I wanted to choke it back in her throat, that laughter! Instead I had to walk away and pretend I didn’t care. When she fell—when I pulled at her sash to make her fall out of the tree—and she died on the grass in front of me, I realized I’d just found a way to have everything I wanted—if I was careful, and patient. After that, after that they were none of them safe.”

“What about the man on the moors? Did you kill him too?” Rutledge asked, suddenly remembering.

“The tramp. There was a chance—they never found Richard, you see—I thought he’d come back one day—yes.” He was still doubled over, hugging his body, his face grimacing as the waves of pain subsided in their own good time.

From somewhere in the distance they could hear voices calling.

Cormac lifted his head in the darkness, and stared at Rut-ledge.

“You had better kill me now. If you don’t, I’ll ruin you in the courtroom. They’ll blame you—before I’m done—”

For a split second, there was an overwhelming temptation to take him at his word. Rutledge clamped down on it, the policeman in him routing the soldier who’d swiftly calculated the odds, and he heard Hamish growl when the policeman won. In satisfaction? Or regret. He was too spent to care.

“Or will they be glad to convict the Irish bastard whose deception took in half the City?” Rutledge answered, and got slowly, achingly to his feet. He reached down a hand, and then thought better of it, grabbing the back of Cormac’s collar instead and dragging him to his knees.

Cormac managed to stand, half bent over, then suddenly found the strength of will to stand straight, eye to eye with Rutledge.

Lucifer had been stopped but not vanquished. Not yet.

Down the strand Constable Dawlish appeared in the heavy rain, peering towards them and shouting, “I think they’re over here!”

Inspector Harvey, with Smedley at his back and Rachel coming up at the run, something in her arms—blankets, he thought as she stumbled and slipped down the path from the lawns.