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Stahl said nothing.

‘And, based on this, Chief Superintendent Mathers was last night able to get a warrant to search your house.’

Stahl scrambled to his feet.

‘Don’t bother, Henning; it was executed this morning.’

Stahl sat down, defeated.

‘And what Chief Superintendent Mathers found was very interesting,’ Poe continued. ‘Lots of photographs you shouldn’t have had. A memory stick full of information you had no way of knowing. Drawings, plans, additional insight into Beck’s victims.’

A noise at the back of the bookshop caused Poe to turn. It was Flynn, DCI Tai-young Lee and a bunch of uniformed cops. Poe winked at them then turned back to Stahl.

‘Here’s what I think happened, Henning,’ he said. ‘Beck chose you because, not only were you morally bankrupt, you’d also played a major part in his downfall.’

‘I told you, I had very little to do with that story!’

‘But that’s not true, is it? You weren’t on background research at all, you were actually the lead investigator. The only reason it wasn’t your name on the story was the phone-hacking scandal had just cracked and the paper were limiting your exposure.’

‘So what?’ Stahl shrugged. ‘I downplayed my role in the story. I was downplaying my role in everything by then.’

‘You were,’ Poe agreed. ‘But then we come to Chance’s Park.Two things have never been explained from that day: what you and Beck discussed when his radio frequency jammer destroyed our comms, and why none of the park runners saw a man in a mask.’

‘You have a theory, I take it?’ Stahl said.

‘Of course. I think no one saw a man in a mask because Beck wasn’t wearing one. When he sat opposite you he was wearing a hat but you could see his face clearly. And you recognised him. I have no doubt you expressed surprise, but we couldn’t hear it as our comms were down. I think it was then that Beck made you an offer. Report his story the way he wanted it, and get a scoop like no journalist in history. You wouldn’t just be inside the police investigation, you would be inside the campaign of a serial killer as well. He told you where his flat was and what you would find there. An unfiltered crime scene for you to write about and a memory stick full of information you could use. A book for you, a legacy for him – a win–win for you both. So, you took your photograph, which included the dehydrator, not realising we would be removing it before we let you up a few days later. We thought it was the first time you had been there, but it was actually the second.’

‘But it was me who found Beck’s name on the lists of people who’d purchased acetone,’ Stahl said.

‘A cynical man might suggest you knew what you were looking for,’ Poe said. ‘That you needed to push the investigation along. I imagine it’s what Beck wanted too.’

Stahl glowered at him.

‘It’ll be weeks before the true impact of your collusion is known, Henning,’ Poe continued, ‘but I know this: if you’d told us who Beck was the moment you got out of Chance’s Park, instead of reverting to type and keeping the story to yourself, we might have been able to catch him sooner than we did.’

‘You don’t know that,’ Stahl said.

‘No, I don’t. But neither do you.’

DCI Lee and a uniformed sergeant approached the pulpit. Stahl was read his rights and handcuffed. The sergeant led him through the astonished crowd.

Before they reached the exit, Poe called out, ‘Oh, Henning,Douglas Salt had a life-altering operation and he’s now looking for someone to blame. I’d keep hold of all the money you got from those book deals, if I were you. He’ll soon be coming for everything you have.’

Stahl struggled against the cuffs but the sergeant was big and burly and he didn’t budge an inch.

Stahl spat on the floor. ‘This isn’t over, Poe!’

‘Goodbye, Henning,’ Poe replied.

After the bookshop had emptied and Poe had finished with Lee, Bradshaw said, ‘What now, Poe?’

‘I don’t know about you, Tilly,’ he said, ‘but I could use a drink. There’s a microbrewery opposite the bookshop and I’m buying. That sound like a plan?’

Doyle put her arm through his and mischievously pecked him on the cheek. Bradshaw and Flynn looked at each other and smiled.

‘I fancy getting drunk,’ Doyle said. ‘We can grab something to eat before we head home. What does everyone fancy?’

No one spoke.

‘Does anywhere around here do goat?’ Poe said eventually.

Bradshaw blinked.

‘You’re disgusting, Poe,’ she said.