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Nathan Rose was in his late thirties and paunchy. He had wet lips and a smile that didn’t connect with his eyes. Slightly shorter than his wife, he was timid looking and seemed overwhelmed by having police officers in his house. He was also the most miserable-looking man Poe had ever seen.

Poe offered his hand and Nathan touched it the same way someone might touch a plate the waiter had just said was extremely hot. He stood beside his wife and Virginia Rose immediately took a step forwards. Her body language was clear: if you want to hurt my husband, you have to go through me first.

‘Has your wife told you why we’re here, Mr Rose?’ Poe said.

Nathan nodded. ‘You think Cornelius’s death might be connected to what happened to the Bowman family.’

Poe gave his one-minute elevator pitch: that a visit to the Children of Job had led them to Israel Cobb and the discovery of some off-the-books courses Cornelius Green had been running. That two of the six attendees had been identified through their parents’ credit-card payments: Aaron Bowman and Nathan Rose.

‘What does Cornelius’s murder have to do with the course I attended?’ Nathan asked.

‘That’s what we’re here to find out,’ Poe said. ‘We believe that when Aaron Bowman returned from his course, he and Bethany had a serious falling-out. She ran away from home that night and as far as we know, didn’t return until—’

‘She killed her parents and her brother,’ Nathan finished for him. ‘I’ve lived in this area all my life, Sergeant Poe; I’m aware of what happened.’

‘We think she’s back, Mr Rose,’ Poe said. ‘And we need to understand why. If we can find out what happened during those courses, not only might it help us find Bethany, it might also give us a steer on anyone else who could be at risk.’

‘We prayed and we talked.’

‘That’s all?’

‘I was having . . . horrible thoughts and Cornelius helped me sort through them. It took three days and I had to fast and pray and read the Bible. He was able to show that my attraction to men was a projection. That really, I wanted to be like them, to be more masculine, and I had mistaken the longing to be accepted for attraction.’

‘Nothing more extreme?’

‘Like what?’

‘I don’t know,’ Poe admitted. ‘But if it were just talking and praying, why the big need for secrecy? Why not simply schedule them with the rest of the courses they ran? He recorded the payments so he wasn’t trying to hide income.’

‘Did it occur to you that my husband’s parents didn’t just require treatment for his . . . confusion; they also required confidentiality?’ Virginia Rose said.

‘I doubt that was it, Mrs Rose,’ Poe said. ‘Half the young men who attended Cornelius’s regularly scheduled conversion courses didn’t have names ascribed to their places, and for those who did it was first names only. If confidentiality really was the issue, it could have been managed within the Children of Job’s existing policies.’

‘Then I’m afraid my husband can’t help you, Sergeant Poe.’

Poe pushed past Virginia Rose. She was about to kick them out and Nathan Rose was hiding something. Poe grasped his arm. ‘Think!’ he urged. ‘There must be something you’re not telling me, something that’s slipped your mind. It doesn’t matter how insignificant you think it is.’

‘I’m sorry, Sergeant—’

‘Do you know how Cornelius Green died, Mr Rose?’

‘I . . . I don’t think it’s been in the newspapers yet.’

‘He had rocks thrown at his head until he was dead. If we don’t—’

‘Cornelius was stoned to death?’ Nathan Rose said, paling.

‘He was.’

Nathan’s eyes flickered briefly as if the channel in his head had just changed. He closed them. For a few seconds he said nothing. A brief, localised sweat dotted his brow. He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. When his eyes opened they were brimming with anguish. He nodded once, as if he’d made a difficult decision.

‘I’ll help you, Sergeant Poe,’ he said eventually.

‘How?’

‘I still have some course material. It’s in the loft.’

‘What material?’ Virginia said.

‘Just leaflets and worksheets, my dear,’ he said. ‘Harmless stuff, but if it helps Sergeant Poe catch whoever killed Cornelius, he should have it. Don’t you agree?’

‘I suppose he must,’ his wife said. ‘Although I don’t see how dredging up your past is relevant to anything that has happened more recently.’

Poe frowned. ‘Why the change of heart, Mr Rose?’

Nathan smiled weakly. ‘I’ll get it for you,’ he said.

He turned on his heel and, before his wife could object, he left the room.