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photographers and newspaper journalists. There was the usual pushing and shoving as hacks jockeyed for position. It was often called a media scrum, but was sometimes more like a ruck.
    ‘All right, calm down,’ called the policeman. ‘I’d rather be doing crowds at football matches than trying to keep an eye on you lot.’
    Some of the hacks were stamping their feet to keep warm, others rubbing their hands. They sky was still clear and the temperature falling fast. Dan’s back was aching from the earlier enforced captivity behind the garden wall. He massaged it with a fist.
    A man strode around the corner of the road, smartly suited. He was tall, about six feet, and wiry, but seemed powerful with it. A bald strip ran over his crown, the remaining hair surrounding it cut so short it was almost invisible. His lips were pursed but his face was set in a semi-smile, making him look smug. The Smiling Assassin, it had to be. A cluster of microphones was thrust under his nose and he surveyed the crowd.
    ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ he said, and his voice was high and sibilant, making Dan think of how talking snakes were portrayed in children’s books. His teeth were oddly small too, like a child’s. ‘Thank you for coming here tonight. I’m Marcus Whiting, the Independent Police Complaints Authority Commissioner for the south-west of England. I will be carrying out the investigation into what happened here.’
    A newspaper reporter’s mobile phone started ringing and Whiting’s eyes flicked to him. ‘Phones off while I’m speaking,’ he hissed. ‘That’s one of the rules of the game.’ The man glared, but fumbled in his jacket and the noise stopped. Whiting watched, then continued.
    ‘You’ll want whatever information I can give you, but please remember, it’s very early in our investigation so there’s a limit to what I can say. Two police officers arrived here at just after nine o’clock this evening following an emergency call. They are members of the Greater Wessex Police Armed Response Team. They forced their way into the property. Exactly what happened then is currently being examined, but I can tell you that one of the officers fired two shots and the male resident of the house was killed. A female was also in the house. She is unharmed, but very distressed.’
    He paused deliberately, waited for the hacks to stop scribbling. ‘I am in charge here, but will be assisted in my inquiry by a team of detectives which Greater Wessex Police have been asked to provide. It is my duty to establish exactly what happened in the run-up to the shooting and when and why the fatal shots were fired. My report will go to the Crown Prosecution Service for them to consider whether any charges should be brought as a result of what happened here tonight.’ His eyes again flicked over the pack. ‘I would stress that is standard procedure, and does not it any way imply any wrongdoing by the officers involved. Any reporting which omits to mention that would be highly misleading. I hope you are clear on that point, as it is a very important one.’
    There was a mumbling of ‘Yes’ from the reporters, and the woman to Dan’s side started to ask a question, but Whiting cut in.
    ‘I will not be taking any questions tonight and this is all the information I will be releasing for now. There will be an update here tomorrow morning.’ His eyes flicked over the journalists again, paused, seemed to consider what he was about to say next.
    ‘There is, however, one more thing to add,’ he hissed finally. ‘We at the IPCA are committed to going about our investigation as openly as possible. So, I have one further piece of information to impart tonight. And it is another important one.’
    Behind him, Dan heard a reporter mutter, ‘Spare us the bloody lecture, mate, and get on with it.’
    Whiting lowered his voice, making the whole pack lean forward to catch his words.
    ‘You will no doubt be aware another man was shot dead by