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‘Regan Banks is a vicious killer,’ Whitt said. ‘He killed a child. You stood in that house back there and you looked at what he’d done to those people. You … you sat before me and you looked at the autopsy photographs of those girls …’

Whitt was almost shouting. When her words cut over his her voice was thick with some hidden emotion.

‘Regan is worthy ,’ Vada said. ‘You couldn’t possibly understand, because you didn’t sit with him for half a decade and learn about his life, about what made him this way. You don’t think what he does hurts him? He is worthy of –’

‘Of what?’ Whitt howled. ‘Of saving? You’re going to save him? You’re out of your mind! He’s not a rescue dog! He’s a serial killer !’

Whitt struggled to breathe. The car was crawling along the dirt road slowly, delaying the inevitable. She didn’t seem to mind.

‘He made a killer of you,’ Whitt said. ‘He brainwashed you so completely … I can’t believe I didn’t see this. Those five weeks. We couldn’t find him. Of course we couldn’t – you were harbouring him.’

‘Turn here.’ Vada pointed. Whitt looked, and saw a tiny turn-off, a track that died no more than two car-lengths into the forest. Whitt did as he was told.

‘He sent you to get close to me,’ Whitt said. His throat was so tight it was hard to swallow. ‘To watch the investigation, and to see if killing me would hurt her the most. You asked if she was my girlfriend. You wanted to know if I was the right choice.’

Vada motioned for him to get out of the car.

‘You are the right choice,’ she said.

Chapter

75

DETECTIVE NIGEL SPADER found Deputy Commissioner Woods in the concrete smokers’ courtyard behind the command building. The big man was hugging his coat against the wind, pacing back and forth, a small mobile phone clutched tightly to his ear.

‘Tonya, I’m not asking you to go back to the facility,’ he growled. ‘I’m telling you. There will be enough money in your account to get your arse in a cab and not a cent more.’

Woods cancelled the call, stabbing the phone with his thumb like he was squashing a bug. When he saw Nigel watching him he scowled.

‘I’ve authorised the Bristol Gardens operation for another night,’ Nigel said. ‘Just because Regan hasn’t turned up yet, doesn’t mean he won’t show tonight. He might be waiting for something.’

Woods patted his pockets for his cigarettes, didn’t answer. When Nigel offered his pack the bigger man snatched them coldly from his fingers. The shadows from the courtyard lights made his eyes unreadable.

‘Sir, I have another suggestion,’ Nigel continued.

‘I’m all out of patience for helpful fucking suggestions,’ Woods barked, taking his phone from his pocket and silencing the call that was coming through. ‘Put it in an email and leave me alone.’

‘With all due respect, sir, it may be more time-critical than that,’ Nigel said. ‘I’ve been dealing with Chief Morris, who has been trying to access the Banks CIR file. He believes we may have overlooked the importance of Regan’s childhood to what he’s doing –’

‘Detective Spader.’ Woods massaged his brow, squeezed his eyes shut. ‘If you think I want to hear theories from the genius mind of Chief Morris right now you really do have your head planted firmly up your own arse.’

‘Sir –’ Nigel approached his superior officer cautiously ‘– Chief Morris’s theory might be bullshit. But he’s pursuing it. And if he’s right, and we’re wrong, we run the risk of handing this whole case and all the due credit for solving it to the man we just ousted for his sheer incompetence.’

Woods exhaled smoke, squinting through it at Detective Spader.

‘He thinks Regan might be going back to where the incident occurred.’

‘And why the fuck would he want to revisit something like that?’ Woods said. ‘What I read in that file makes me sick.’

‘That’s just what this guy is,’ Nigel said, shrugging. ‘Sick.’

Woods considered. ‘We don’t know when he would go there,’ he said eventually.

‘Better to set up a team immediately, then,’ Nigel said. ‘And every night until he shows. If he shows.’

Woods licked his teeth. He dropped the cigarette and stamped it out, his decision made.

Chapter

76

‘START WALKING,’ VADA said, poking him in the shoulder with the gun.

‘Think about what you’ve done for this man,’ Whitt said, taking uneven steps forward in the dark. ‘You’ve killed two people. You’ve … you’ve impersonated a police officer. You’re going to … you’re …’

You’re going to kill me .

He couldn’t say the words. He swigged the bourbon.

‘This isn’t you,’ Whitt said. ‘You’ve made a mistake. Surely they told you this when you signed on to counsel convicted killers. Surely they told you how manipulative they can be, how seductive.’

He stumbled, fell on his hands. The bottle sloshed into the mud. She nudged him with her boot.

‘Get up.’

Whitt looked around. There was nowhere to run, and he was too drunk to attempt it. If he sprinted away now, he’d fall helplessly, bash into trees, stagger unarmed until she found him and ended him. His only chance was to keep talking. It was so cold. His jacket was back at the crime scene. He gripped the bourbon bottle so hard his knuckles ached. They walked in silence.

‘I know what you’re thinking,’ Whitt pressed on eventually. ‘He’s a dangerous animal. He’s clever. Cunning. Bad . But you understand him. Only you. And that makes you special. Of course it does. You understand the real Regan. That’s why you do what you do. Because you refuse to give up on them. The worst of the worst. Maybe … maybe someone refused to give up on you, and now …’

‘Stop walking,’ she said. ‘Get on your knees.’

‘He’s not what you think he is.’

‘I said kneel down!’

‘There’s a part of you that’s not sure about this,’ Whitt said.‘You shot at Harry. Regan would never have allowed you to do that. Maybe you thought you could kill her, end Regan’s game. End it for him and you. Vada, there’s still a chance to –’

‘It’s over, Whitt,’ she said. ‘Please kneel.’

She clicked the hammer back on the pistol and pointed it at his face.

He knelt.

Whitt’s mind raced, new frantic arguments forming, but before he could voice them the strange automatic impulse that he’d felt when he punched the officer on the bridge overtook him. He lunged at her legs.

The gun’s blast lit up the forest.

Chapter

77

THEY FELL TOGETHER, and Whitt heard the gun clatter to the dirt. He didn’t know where the shot had gone, but he knew he wasn’t hit. Whitt rolled in the dirt, managed to get on top of Vada, his hands gripping hers over the gun. He was on autopilot, watching a man that was not him grapple for the weapon, trying to force all his weight down on her. He could not focus on her face. He knew seeing her desperate eyes would confuse him, remind him of the Vada he thought he knew, distract him from what he needed to do. He let go with one hand and punched downwards, a half-strength blow that glanced off her jaw. Just enough to stop her, not enough to really hurt her. She rolled, and he lost his balance, and the gun’s deadly eye swung around at him again.

Another shot. This one seemed to be louder.

Whitt cowered, his hands on his head, unable to take his eyes off Vada.

She was just as surprised by the shot. The blast had not come from her gun. She swung her weapon in the direction that it had come, but through the darkness came another muzzle flash, the shot this time whizzing over both their heads.