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‘Uniform will be there soon, Poe. Can you make sure they secure the scene? I’ve also rerouted a DS from the public protection unit. As soon as she gets there, hand the scene over to her. She’ll manage it until everyone arrives.’

‘Will do, sir.’

‘And, Poe?’

‘Sir?’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘About what, sir?’

‘About everything.’

Poe didn’t answer immediately. ‘Try not to worry, sir. This is unprecedented, just remember that. No SIO has ever had to deal with the killer sitting in their own briefing room.’

‘Thanks, Poe.’ The line went dead.

He glanced across at Bradshaw. She was waving to get his attention. He could see blue flashing lights.

The cavalry had arrived.

CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

Before long, Poe and Bradshaw were superfluous. The well-oiled machine that is a murder investigation had taken over, and they were rightly characterised by the first detective on scene as being unauthorised personnel: people with no need to be on the inside of the cordon. Poe didn’t take it personally; if the chief constable had turned up, he’d have been told to get lost as well.

More and more police and support staff arrived. They all changed into white forensic suits and the field looked as though it had a moving mushroom infestation.

Poe and Bradshaw offered to help, but, in their civilian clothes and with no one to vouch for them, they were told everything was in hand. A gnarly old detective inspector who Poe had had a fight with over something trivial a few years ago arrived. He firmly told him he was relieved. They retreated to Poe’s car to avoid getting under everyone’s feet.

Although they would be far more use back at Shap Wells trying to figure out where Reid was holed up, Poe knew he’d better wait for Flynn. At some point detectives would need to interview him. With Reid identified as the Immolation Man, Poe’s name being carved into Michael James’s chest and his subsequent connection to the case became clearer. They would want to know everything he knew. He had information that would be needed when the scapegoating began. Someone was going to get the blame for all this.

Putting the political ramifications aside, Poe reviewed what had happened. He didn’t think Reid would kill Hilary Swift’s grandchildren; he was acting psychotically but up until now it had been cold and calculating. Everything had been done for a reason. Poe believed taking the children was tactical: leverage in case he was located before the job was finished.

He also believed that Reid was somewhere near. He’d driven Price from Carlisle police station to Shap, ignoring all the circles in between. Poe suspected that Reid had set Montague Price on fire then driven straight to where he was holed up. It would be close by.

Unfortunately, being in the right postcode didn’t help much. The Shap Fells were huge and remote. They could be anywhere.

‘Poe?’

Bradshaw was staring at him. She was biting her bottom lip, a sign he’d come to recognise that she was worried about something. ‘What’s up, Tilly?’

‘If Reid is Mathew Malone, how are he and George Reid related?’

How indeed?

Where did George Reid fit into all this? How did Mathew Malone become Kylian Reid? They weren’t the only unanswered questions. How had Reid survived Quentin Carmichael and his cronies? When did he and George Reid decide to do something about it? Was it after Reid had joined the police or was it earlier? Had Reid joined the police so he could do something about it?

There was so much missing information.

What wasn’t missing, though, was the pain Reid must have been feeling for all the years he’d known him. That he’d managed to keep it hidden was almost beyond Poe’s comprehension. Would he ever see his friend again? Had he ever really been his friend?

Had Poe been part of his grand plan from the beginning?

A text alert wrenched him from his deliberations. He looked down at the display, expecting to see Flynn’s name. It was an unknown number; different to the one Gamble had used. Poe clicked on the message. His mouth opened in astonishment.

Come alone and the two children live. Come with Gamble and they burn. When your satnav says you’re there, you’re not. Keep driving for .6 of a mile then take the next left. After one hundred yards you will see a sign for Black Hollow Farm. It is literally the end of the road. Park your car and walk towards the house. Kylian

It finished with a postcode. Blood began pounding in his temple. This was it: the beginning of the end. Reid had asked for him and Poe knew he would answer.