Beth could feel the rage emanating from O’Dowd as she took a seat beside her. Harry Quirke was sitting across the table from them and he carried the calm air of someone who was intrigued at the goings on.

They hadn’t yet arrested him, but Beth knew it was a possible outcome of the interview. Like every other lead in this case, the link was tenuous and they had no evidence to back up their suspicions, but with no better leads to pursue, they had to follow those they had.

When O’Dowd went through the formalities Quirke’s expression never changed. He just sat there with his fingers interlocked over his belly. To all intents and purposes, it was the behaviour of an innocent man.

His posture made her doubt herself and wonder if she’d got it wrong. If that was the case, not only had she wasted a large portion of a day when she should have been apprehending the Dragon Master, she’d put herself in O’Dowd’s sights. The only thing that restored her faith in her theory was that Sarah’s phone had been traced to the middle of nowhere and she still hadn’t been found.

From what Thompson had told her, she understood that today’s press conference had made the previous one seem like a summer picnic beside a babbling brook.

O’Dowd placed her hands on the table. ‘Right then. Mr Quirke, do you know a Sarah Hardy?’

‘I do, yes. I almost bought a car from her. Sadly when I checked my finances, I found I couldn’t stretch my budget quite far enough.’

‘What did you think of her?’

‘I thought she was a very pleasant and good-looking young woman.’

‘Good-looking you say.’ O’Dowd was on the statement at once. ‘Are you saying you fancied her?’

‘I presume that if you’re asking me questions about her, you’ll already know that she is a strikingly beautiful woman. I cannot deny that I appreciate her beauty, but I wouldn’t say that I fancy her. She is less than half my age and I felt no greater attraction to her than I do towards the lovely DC sitting beside you. She too is a gorgeous specimen despite the ugly scar on her cheek.’

‘I’ll beg your pardon, Mr Quirke, not to speak about one of my team like that.’

Quirke raised his hands from the table. ‘If I’ve caused any offence, I apologise. All I was trying to do was pay her a compliment. She has enough beauty about her to compensate for the scar.’

‘MR QUIRKE!’

As O’Dowd was staring Quirke down, Beth was digging into the psyche fuelling his words. Yes the guy creeped her out with his lingering assessments of her and the way he was talking about her scar. That he was having a conversation about a part of her that she didn’t discuss was both surreal and invasive.

Yet at the same time, he wasn’t showing any signs of lust and his voice was calm. It was as if he was discussing a painting or some other work of art rather than a human being.

Beth laid a hand on O’Dowd’s arm. While she appreciated the DI coming to her defence, she didn’t need protecting, and she wasn’t offended by Quirke’s words. She also wanted to play good cop to O’Dowd’s bad cop.

‘Mr Quirke, if you don’t mind me saying so, you don’t look to be a young man. What do you do with your days?’

‘I’m retired. I was invalided out of the army a good few years ago.’

‘You didn’t answer my question. What do you do with your days?’

Quirke gave a helpless gesture. ‘I potter about in my garden and I read.’

‘What else do you do?’ Beth put a smile on her face as she spoke. ‘You were at The Drover’s Rest tonight. Do you eat out often?’

‘As I told you the other day, I eat out most lunch and dinner times. I live alone and I’m a rotten cook. To stave off the boredom, I dine out. There isn’t a crime in that, is there?’

‘That very much depends on how you behave. When DI O’Dowd was asking you about Sarah Hardy you seemed a fraction less relaxed. A colleague of hers told us that you “creeped Sarah out” with your behaviour. That she believed you wasted her time just so you could ogle her. You’ve also commented on my looks. I find that strange.’ Beth turned to face O’Dowd. ‘Boss, you’ve interviewed a lot more people than I have, let’s face it, we’re often called an ugly so and so, but how many times have you known suspects to positively comment on a police officer’s looks?’

O’Dowd looked straight at Quirke. ‘Never.’

Before he could speak, Beth pounced on the cue. ‘That’s what I thought. Correct me if I’m wrong, Mr Quirke, but I think you’re a half step away from being a full-blown stalker. You have commented on Sarah Hardy’s looks more than her personality. I want to know your movements today. Where you’ve been and who you’ve spoken to, because I’m now wondering if you’ve moved on from stalking to abduction and murder.’

‘Why? Has something happened to Sarah?’

‘That’s what we want you to tell us.’

Quirke looked at both O’Dowd and Beth before putting his head in his hands. When he lifted his head, Beth saw the first traces of fear. She was tempted to add further pressure, but, as O’Dowd was silent, she followed her lead.

After the uncomfortable silence had dragged on for a full five minutes, Quirke opened his mouth to speak. ‘You’ve brought me in here and you’re asking me about Sarah Hardy, therefore something has happened to her and you think I’m involved, but you don’t have any evidence that proves my guilt.’ He waved a dismissive hand. ‘The reason you don’t have any evidence is that there isn’t any. I’ve done nothing wrong. However, I found Miss Hardy to be a very pleasant young lady and I’m keen to help. What do you want to know?’

‘She’s disappeared. We want to know where she is and we think you can answer that question. In fact we think you’re the only person who can tell us where she is.’

‘I don’t know where she is.’ Quirke hesitated as if weighing up how much to say. A look of fear crossed his face before he spoke again. ‘But I might have an idea who does.’

‘Who?’ Beth and O’Dowd asked the question at the same time.

Again Quirke lifted his hands in a surrender gesture. ‘Please don’t think ill of me. I’m only telling you this because I want to help Sarah.’

Beth planted her hands on the table and leaned over to address Quirke. ‘Mr Quirke, we’re investigating multiple murders and we think Miss Hardy might be the next to fall into the killer’s hands. Right now, it’s looking very much like you’re the person who’s abducted Miss Hardy, that you’re the killer the press has called the Dragon Master. Don’t make the mistake of thinking that just because you’ve not been arrested yet that it can’t happen at any moment.’

Quirke squirmed in his seat and looked to O’Dowd for support. When he got none his mouth flapped a couple of times before he started gabbling a defence. ‘Please, you don’t understand. I’m not the Dragon Master. I’m not. You don’t understand.’

‘Then explain it to us.’ Beth eased herself back into the plastic chair.

‘When I got invalided out of the army, it was because I took a bullet. To my groin. I lost everything, and by everything I mean everything. Including my sexual desire. What I now have is an appreciation of beauty. I see beautiful women and I become captivated by them. I feel no desire for them. I just have a need to worship them. When I saw Sarah, I was entranced. After not being able to afford the car, I started watching her at work. Last night I followed her home. At seven o’clock she was picked up by a man. He was driving a big Range Rover. It might be innocent, but at the same time, he may know more about her whereabouts than me.’

‘Did you get the licence plate of the Range Rover?’

Beth was amazed that she’d managed to keep the contempt she felt for Quirke from her voice. He was admitting that he was a stalker as if it was something as trivial as admitting he was a man, or that he lived in Carlisle. It would be O’Dowd’s call, but she knew if it was her decision, she wouldn’t just throw the book at him, she’d empty every shelf in the library.

When he scribbled the licence number down on her notepad, she went through to the main desk and fed it into the DVLA database. The car was registered to a Kevin Ingersoll. Ingersoll’s address was in an area that she didn’t know, so she googled it. There was nothing in the area but a solitary cottage. By the look of the cottage on Street View, it didn’t sit with the image of someone who drove a Range Rover. She knew that some people would prefer to have a flash car than a nice home, but rather than jump to conclusions, she ran a few more searches for Ingersoll. All came back blank. It was as if the man was totally off the grid.

Instinct told her she’d missed a link. She just couldn’t work out what.

Whatever the thing was, Beth knew it could be crucial.

At this moment in time, though, the priority had to be bringing in Kevin Ingersoll. Whoever he was.