If the gun had fallen differently it could have hit Imogen. He looked at it lying there on the dustsheet. He wanted to point it at Reece and pull the trigger. He could pick it up now and claim it accidentally went off in the skirmish, killing Reece Corrigan. He could stop this man – a man who uses sex as a weapon, a way to gain power over people, people like Leon Quick, his own daughter and now Adrian, a police officer. Imogen would back him up if he pulled the trigger, he knew she would, especially if he told her why.

The temptation was strong, but there were other factors to consider, like the identity of the two men in the van. Reece was the only one who could tell him who they were.

He picked up the gun.

‘Adrian!’ Imogen shouted.

He had zoned out again.

He turned to see Imogen pulling Reece Corrigan back by his shoulders. He had his hands wrapped around his daughter’s neck and was pressing his thumbs hard into the centre of her throat. She clawed at him and her legs flailed.

Adrian rushed over, realising yet again that he had left the moment and become preoccupied with himself. He wasn’t fit to be back on the job.

He swung his arm with the full weight of his body, the gun still in his hand, the butt slamming into Reece’s jaw. Corrigan let go of Angela immediately and fell to the ground. Adrian stood over him and hit him again and again with the gun. The sadness inside Adrian instantly transformed into anger and then some sort of perverse pleasure as the skin split and blood poured from Corrigan’s face.

Corrigan stopped moving and Imogen grabbed hold of Adrian’s wrist as he was about to hit him one more time.

‘Stop! He’s done. He’s out,’ Imogen said before calling behind her. ‘Angela. Are you OK?’

Imogen looked at Adrian. He could feel the anger on his face and he could see how concerned she was. He nodded that she could let him go. She turned to Angela and helped her to stand.

‘I know what you must think of me,’ Angela said as she ran her fingers over the red marks on her throat.

‘None of this is your fault,’ Imogen said. ‘Just hold tight. I have already called for some assistance and an ambulance.’

‘You should have let him kill me,’ Angela sobbed. ‘Then he would definitely go to prison.’

‘He will. They will confirm the identity of your mother and with your testimony against him for the years of abuse you endured, there is no way he can get away with it this time,’ Imogen said.

Adrian turned to Imogen. ‘Are you OK?’

The faintest blue lights pulsated against the ceiling. Their back-up had arrived.