As soon as it was first light they would go out in the van and park near the police station. Tomorrow would be her last shift if he had worked it out correctly, then they would follow her home and ambush Annie and her lover. His hands were shaking. He was so excited to finally be able to touch her. How he’d longed to run his fingers through her soft curls. He imagined the look on her face when he wrapped a handful of them around his fingers so tightly he could pull her head back and kiss her soft, red lips. He would lick the salty tears that were falling from her eyes as she cried for her dead husband, then he would talk to her and tell her exactly how much she meant to him.

He had dreamt about talking to her face to face almost every night in the hospital. She was all he had ever wanted and it was going to be so special. Nothing would come between them. If he had to he would kill Megan so she didn’t get in the way. Besides, once she’d done what she was supposed to she would be surplus to requirements anyway. He smiled at himself. Tomorrow was going to be a great day.

***

Will let Annie lead him back to where their friends were waiting. They were chatting amongst themselves. He sat back down and Annie reached out for his hand.

‘Sorry, I just don’t want to put Annie in any more danger than she’s already in.’

‘We know. In fact, Jake pretty much had the same reaction as you until he realised that this could work to our benefit.’

Will looked across at Jake, grateful that he felt the same, and Jake nodded.

‘I don’t like it one bit, Will, but like Annie said, surely it will be better for us to have the upper hand. He’s clever. If we wait around he might start picking us off one by one anyway, so he’s able to get to Annie on her own. We’re an inconvenience to him and he doesn’t care who he kills.’

Annie squeezed Will’s hand. ‘I think he’ll be watching Windermere station like a hawk now to see when I come and go. If we do it so it’s not too obvious it should work. I bet he already knows my routines. He’ll know that we go to the café for takeaways. I don’t think he would try and ambush me outside the station but we can’t be too sure. If it was quiet enough then he just might, but if we arranged it so that you lot were already in the café in plain clothes when I went in, you could look out for him, see if he’s following me. The only other place I can think of luring him to is Beckett House. It’s pretty secluded and Miss Beckett, the owner, is elderly and wouldn’t have a clue what was going on. If he followed me from the coffee shop, we could lure him there. I’ve already been there a couple of times this week for work, so it might even be on his radar. There are several sheds and a boathouse you could all take cover in. What do you think?’

Cathy nodded. ‘I think it’s better than the fuck-all we had this morning. It has to be worth a try. It might not work and then it will be back to the drawing board, but at least if we do something it’s better than us sitting around here twiddling our thumbs. And wouldn’t it be a real tragedy if he fell into the lake and drowned? Save wasting tax payers’ money on the piece of crap.’

Will was absorbing everything they had just said. Yes, it did make sense. It made perfect sense if they could lure him to Beckett House and catch him before he even thought about harming a hair on Annie’s head, but could they all live with themselves?

Cathy smiled. ‘Well, that’s sorted then. Tomorrow we’ll do a trial run to see if he’s around, watching. You never know, our Henry might not be as clever as we’re giving him credit for, and we might be able to swoop on him and have him in cuffs before you get so far as ordering your skinny latte.’

Annie smiled. ‘Now that would be nice. Here’s to us: the Famous Five – or at least we will be after this is all over.’

5 June 1931

James waited at the front door for his friend, Martin Simms, to arrive. He was pacing up and down, unable to settle or stand still for more than thirty seconds. The day after Martha had seen Joe in the garden he had phoned Martin and told him the whole story, asking him for his forgiveness and assuring him that they hadn’t all gone stark, raving mad. Martin had listened to what James had to say then taken some time to think about it all.

‘I believe you, James. I truly do. I’ve seen some strange things working in this museum, so it doesn’t surprise me in the least, but I need to speak to my colleague, Arthur Fletcher, who specialises in Indian culture and mythology. I’ll be in touch as soon as I’ve spoken with him. And I’m dreadfully sorry to hear about young Joseph. I’m so sorry for your loss.’

‘Thank you, Martin, I’ll be for ever in your debt.’

Now both Martin and this expert, Arthur, were coming to visit. They had told him they needed to see him in person and that this wasn’t something that could be discussed properly over the telephone. So James had made all the necessary arrangements to have them brought down, and now they should be here any minute. Eleanor came down the stairs and his breath caught in the back of his throat. His beautiful wife was a shadow of her former self. She missed meals and slept a lot. Her skin was pale because she wouldn’t leave the house in case Joe came back and she wasn’t here.

‘Is there anything I can get you, darling?’

She shook her head and he cursed himself for asking such a stupid question. There was nothing he could get her. All she wanted was her son, their son.

‘Where’s Martha?’

‘Playing in her room. I feel as if I should be making more of an effort, but I can’t, because whenever I look at her she reminds me that Joe should be here and that he isn’t.’

James felt another piece of his heart tear apart. Why had he brought that thing here? It had ripped his family into pieces in more ways than one.

‘It’s okay; I’ll go and see her as soon as Martin arrives. I just want to be here to greet him.’

Eleanor nodded then turned and walked towards the kitchen. She visibly flinched as she walked past the cellar door, her head down. She couldn’t look at it. James had even toyed with the idea of having the damn thing bricked up and wallpapered over, but he knew she’d never agree to it. She still believed Joe might come back, and he couldn’t take that last bit of hope away from her because he feared that, if he did, she would give up altogether. The sound of tyres crunching along the gravel snapped James out of his world of grief and he threw open the front door, ready to greet his old friend.

After Lucy had shown the visitors to their rooms they came down to speak to him in his study. James poured out three glasses of brandy and handed one to each of them.

‘Thank you for coming. I need to know what to do and how I can keep my family safe.’

‘You’re welcome, James. I’m just sad it’s under such horrendous circumstances, but I can’t say that I know what to say or do. Arthur is the expert so I’ll let him take over from here.’

Arthur stepped forward, shaking James’s hand once more.

‘I’ve spent a lot of time over in America with the native Indians. They spoke a lot of this Windigo around the camp fires, but I assumed it was one of their tales to scare each other from resorting to cannibalism when food was scarce. I didn’t actually believe it to be real. Where on earth did you manage to come by it?’

‘Through the cousin of a friend at the fairground. He knew a man who dealt in rare and unusual antiquities in London. I was looking for pieces for my freak show and it was perfect, but it looked dead. In fact, it was so grotesque that I didn’t think it was real. I never for one moment thought it could be.’

‘Do you have any pictures of it?’

James nodded and unlocked his desk drawer. Pulling out a crumpled picture of him standing next to its glass display case hours before the fairground had burnt to the ground, he passed it to Arthur.