As she traced her way along the hedge at the end of the garden, Jessica’s eyes were drawn to a shed in the far corner that was largely hidden in the shadows. The only thing that gave it away was the sloping A-shaped roof, with long windowless sides almost camouflaged against the background.

Jessica was edging towards the outhouse when she felt a jolt shoot through her. At first she thought it was pain from her shoulder but then she heard her phone’s ringtone start, and realised it was the vibration of the device through her jacket pocket that had made her jump. Desperate not to draw the attention of a nosy neighbour, Jessica fumbled for the phone, stabbing at the screen.

‘Adam?’ she whispered loudly.

‘Er, yeah. Are you okay?’

For some irrational reason, Jessica felt him talking at full volume could expose where she was and shushed agitatedly into the phone.

‘I’m fine,’ she said, trying to keep her voice down. ‘I’m sorry I’m late, I’ll be home soon. Do you want me to pick up a takeaway?’

Adam had lowered his voice when he next spoke. ‘I’m going to sort myself out. You’re definitely going to be home soon?’

‘Yes but I’ve got to go.’ Jessica ended the call abruptly. She remembered a few weeks previously when she had been in the station’s canteen and caught the tail-end of Rowlands finishing a phone conversation with Chloe as each refused to hang up on the other. He eventually relented when he noticed Jessica watching but public displays of affection were another part of being in a relationship she hadn’t come to terms with.

Jessica returned the phone to her pocket and stood silently in case a neighbour had noticed. As she was about to continue towards the shed, she heard Rowlands’s voice hissing from somewhere close to the house. ‘Jess.’

His tone sounded urgent and she walked as quickly as she could towards him, careful not to leave footprints on the grassed areas. He was standing by one of the windows at the rear of the house looking at her.

‘What?’ Jessica said.

‘Look.’ Rowlands pointed to a small alcove underneath the bay window, where the frame curved out, leaving a gap underneath. ‘I’ve not touched it,’ he added.

Jessica took the phone out of her pocket and crouched, turning on the screen’s light. In the white glow, she could see a faded green plastic petrol can pushed towards the back, lying on its side. The lid was unscrewed, resting on the ground, attached by a thin synthetic strip. There were a few drops of liquid on the concrete next to it but it otherwise seemed empty.

Jessica stood up as the light on her phone turned itself off. ‘Shit.’

‘It doesn’t look good, does it?’ Rowlands said.

She leant against the window, facing the rest of the garden, and breathed out deeply, watching the steam drift upwards into the air and then evaporate.

‘Maybe . . .’ Jessica replied, pausing. ‘But, if Anthony set fire to the other house, why would he come back here, leave the can and then disappear? Also, it’s sort of hidden where you found it but, if he wanted to properly hide it, why wouldn’t he dump it in a bin, a hedge, a field or anywhere on his way back? It’s only a plastic can, so it’s not as if it can have any sentimental value.’

‘True but why would it be here at all? Why wouldn’t it be in the back of his car where anyone else would keep it?’

Jessica pressed against the glass and stared up at the clear sky. The moon was a bright white and she could see the blinking red lights of a plane passing overhead.

‘What if he was out here when we knocked?’ Rowlands added. ‘He might have heard us and then shoved it in there to hide it and run off.’

Jessica wasn’t convinced but a thought skipped through her mind. ‘There is a shed at the other end.’ She pointed towards the shadowed corner. The constable stepped forward but Jessica held a hand across him. ‘Be careful, we’re not supposed to be here. Don’t leave any footprints.’

Together they navigated their way across the uneven flags, carefully stepping on the parts of the lawn with the most grass when they had to. Jessica knew they wouldn’t have a good reason for trampling on his property if Anthony was in his shed. If he wasn’t, she didn’t want to run the risk of having problems with evidence later.

With something like the petrol can, she couldn’t simply phone into the station and say what they had picked up because they had discovered it while trespassing. If that ever found its way into a defence lawyer’s argument, the evidence could be ruled as inadmissible. That didn’t mean there weren’t ways and means of working around the law. Jessica had already mentally rehearsed the conversation she would have with Cole later that evening. It would go along the lines of, ‘Our only suspect went missing at the exact time the fire was being set, let’s ask a magistrate if we can have a warrant.’ It was easy to make it sound like two and two were five if really necessary. Once that warrant was granted, Jessica would either be with the team that arrived at the house, or she would have a quiet word with whoever was leading the raid, just to say that there might be something of interest under the window at the back. If they could handily forget that the side gate was unlocked, then all the better.

It was the kind of thing that happened frequently although no one ever talked about it. When they knew about a certain person who was dealing drugs, they might have no evidence but ‘intelligence’ would emerge of people coming and going at inopportune hours, or ‘neighbours’ would provide anonymous statements. By the time they’d raided the place and found the evidence as they knew they would, no one cared whether the tip was genuine.

Lost in her thoughts, Jessica almost fell into the constable as he tripped on a raised paving slab and rocked backwards to steady himself. She stumbled and stretched out as he half-turned and reached out to grab her. He caught her just in time to stop her falling but Jessica winced as he touched the shoulder Ryan had barged into.

‘Are you okay?’ he asked.

‘Yeah, come on, let’s get on with it.’

Jessica stepped past her colleague and hopped from one paved area to the next until she was in front of the shed. She hadn’t been able to see it from a distance but the wood was stained a greeny-brown and large parts of it were damp and rotten, even though it hadn’t rained for a few days. The door appeared as flimsy as the rest of the structure but a large metal padlock was attached. Jessica rattled the door gently but couldn’t pull it forward enough to make a crack she could see through.

‘Shall we go?’ Rowlands whispered. ‘He’s obviously not here if it’s padlocked from the outside.’

‘Light your phone up and hold it here for me,’ Jessica said, crouching next to the lock.

The constable did as he was told as Jessica reached into an inside pocket of her jacket and took out a wide hair clasp. ‘What are you doing?’ Rowlands asked but she ignored him.

The padlock was connected to a metal bracket and, using the clip at the back of her clasp, Jessica scraped the paint out of the grooves of a screw holding the joint in place. After clearing all three screws, she pushed the clasp into the grooves sideways then slowly began to turn it. As she twisted, Jessica thought the clasp would give way first but she gradually managed to loosen the screw before, finally, it dropped into her hand.

‘That was pretty good,’ Rowlands said.

‘Just hold the light still,’ Jessica replied grumpily as his hands shook. She started on the second screw, using both hands.

‘If this was a movie, you would have just picked the lock,’ the constable whispered.

‘If this was a movie, I’d have a chest three times bigger than I actually do and you’d be much better looking. Now hold still.’

Steadily Jessica eased the second and third screws out from the bracket before pocketing them. Although the padlock was still connected, the door’s hinge was only screwed to the frame of the shed, so Jessica could pull it open. It squeaked loudly, so she wrenched it as quickly as she could and then propped a stone in front of it.