Donald May had forgotten how much Jean Samson enjoyed driving. The long country drives in north Norfolk; she had insisted on taking the wheel. He had let her. That first weekend away in an out-of-season B & B; salty sea air and vinegared chips on Cromer pier. Idylls never last, though, do they?

Twenty years later, sitting next to each other in a car, driving at speed down country lanes: Norfolk with hills. Who would have expected this back then? May had kept his counsel when his ACC had suggested they go alone to Rankin’s house to observe their prime suspect. Why two such senior officers? And without backup? Was it so top secret? Donald May shut the questions out of his mind and tried to enjoy the chase.

Was Clement Rankin aware that he was being followed? Not if Jean Samson had...

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