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Catholic. She, unlike him, had never lost the core of her faith in a God.
    In his own mind he bullied her God, demanding that he look after someone who had never knowingly harmed a living soul, who brought joy, humour and intelligence into a dark world. Then he thought of the child. Alone and terrified, or already dead.
    And he wept silently in the darkness.
    Morning brought some semblance of normality. Margaret had always been a fighter. Her mindset had moved from despair and fear to determination. Whatever she had to do to confront this thing she would do. The possibility that the lump might be benign was there, but Margaret had already contemplated the worst scenario and decided how to deal with it. If the growth was benign, that was a bonus.
    Before she slept she’d given him her instructions. The children were not to be told until the lump wasexamined. If it was benign they need never be told. If it wasn’t they would be told the truth.
    ‘They are old enough to deal with it,’ was what she’d said.
    She would not hear of Bill coming to the hospital with her. ‘If you are with me, I’ll have to think about you. I’d rather be there on my own. We’ll meet up afterwards, away from the house.’
    He had taken her instructions without question. She would tell him when the appointment came through. He had other things to think about just now, she’d insisted.
    She saw him off at the door. The scent of her skin as she kissed his cheek swamped him. Ever since she told him, he had grown conscious again of everything about her. It was as though he were back thirty years.
    ‘Find the boy’ were her last words to him as he got in the car.

Day 2
Tuesday

5
    BILL GLANCED AROUND the table. Rhona looked bleary-eyed. He suspected she’d had as much sleep as himself, which wasn’t much. This strategy meeting was critical in deciding how much they knew and what their next move would be. As well as himself and Rhona, the Crime Scene Manager, McNab, was there. Bill had observed McNab’s reaction when Rhona walked in, smart and professional in her navy-blue suit. He had been relieved by McNab’s lack of interest, which must mean McNab had returned to the fold minus that particular obsession.
    Detective Superintendent Sutherland was there. He would watch the 360-degree live footage of the crime scene while the experts around the table gave him their opinions to date. Dr Sissons, the pathologist, was the last to arrive. As soon as he had taken his seat, Bill began.
    ‘The crime was discovered by chance. A house-bound neighbour, Mrs Cullen, saw the front door lying open and phoned Mrs Cavanagh. Apparently the old lady was bad about leaving her door unlocked. When there was no answer, the neighbour became concerned and called the police station around fiveo’clock. A patrol car came to check and found the bodies at five-thirty. Mrs Cullen did not see Stephen, his mother or a stranger enter the house. As far as she knows, there is no Mr Devlin. Carole appeared about a month ago. Mrs Cavanagh told her neighbour her daughter had been living abroad.’
    Rhona looked up. ‘Abroad?’
    ‘Mrs Cullen thinks England’s abroad. The child being “dark”, as Mrs Cullen put it, she thought Carole had been living in London.’
    They watched the footage in silence. The Super tried to remain impassive, but even he paled at the carnage.
    Dr Sissons confirmed the mode of death. ‘Enid Cavanagh died from a single blow to the back of the head with a long-bladed and extremely sharp knife. The skull was separated into two halves by the force. Subsequent damage to vital brainstem structure resulted in reflex cardiorespiratory arrest and a quick death.
    ‘Carole Devlin had a more protracted end. Lacerations suggest the knife was held to her neck, probably while she was raped. Then the carotid artery was cut, perhaps at the moment of ejaculation. Once on the floor, her clitoris, prepuce and labia were removed, probably with the same