Anna dropped Lexi off at six forty-five with huge apologies that were immediately dismissed out of hand by the saintly Maggie and headed up the M5. It was a dark, wet, filthy morning. Spray turned the journey into an exercise in concentration. She made it to Worcester a little after eight.

Shaw was in bed in a single room on an acute medical ward, looking grey and subdued. One arm was bandaged and had a saline drip running into it; the other was chained to the metal frame of the bed. A white wire snaked up from his ears to an outlet on the wall behind him. In the corner, a prison officer sat on a chair, reading the Daily Mirror. Anna showed him her warrant card. He got up and left the room. Shaw took out the earbuds. Under the bright ceiling lights, his lips were pale and his skin waxy.

‘Good of you to come, Anna.’

‘I said I’d tell you what we found.’

‘At eight o’clock in the morning? You must have left early. Must have had a sense of urgency. You worried I’m not going to make it to next week?’ Shaw’s hollow-cheeked grin had an anorexic look about it.

Exactly that, Anna thought. She’d never admit to concern over Shaw. Didn’t need to because it wasn’t true. But she did harbour an odd sense of duty. She’d made a promise and she wasn’t going to be the one to renege on it. Anna shrugged and gave him a bluff answer. ‘It was either now or not at all. Do they know what’s wrong with you?’

Shaw shook his head. ‘Anaemia of unknown origin. I’m due a transfusion any minute, then there’s an MRI scan.’ He held up his chained wrist. ‘They’ll have to take these off. That’ll be fun watching them sweat.’

‘I’m here because I keep my promises, Hector.’

‘I know you do. That’s what I like about you, Anna.’

‘We’re in the middle of a search. I don’t have much time.’

Shaw nodded. ‘I’m all ears.’

She told him about Norcott and his sketch of the fence with the railway beyond and the tunnel beneath. And about King and the missing Beth Farlow. How Krastev was linked through the Dorells.’

‘So Norcott attacked King and has taken Farlow?’

‘Yes.’

‘What about this Dorell woman?’

‘We’re on it. I take it Dorell means nothing to you?’

Shaw shook his head slowly. ‘Krastev never mentioned her. Can I see the sketch Norcott made?’

Anna saw no harm in it. She had the image Dawes had sent her on her phone and held it up for him to see. He leaned forward on the bed, but Anna stayed out of his reach. Even so, she could smell him, and he had the stench of sickness about him; she watched his face harden in concentration.

‘Do you know who these three are?’

Anna’s turn to shrug. ‘You asked me what Krastev was hiding, why he didn’t want to give up Ryegrove. I think he built the tunnel to get in to see the girl. It could be Krastev in the sketch. The other two could be the Dorells. It all fits.’

‘What about the background? The lines and the black mound and the red area?’

‘It’s where we found the body. The black mound could be one of the piles of sleepers. The red… that might be Jamie Carson or even Alison Johnson.’

Shaw hadn’t taken his eyes off the phone. ‘The dark mound is curved. Railway sleepers are square.’

‘It’s all I have. Norcott is the only one who really knows.’

Shaw looked up at her and blinked, slowly. ‘True. Him and the people in his sketch. They’d know.’

‘As I said, we’re tracing the Dorells. The girl’s been in and out of institutions, so it shouldn’t be too difficult. And Krastev… well, we can’t ask him anything, can we.’

‘Not unless you’ve got a medium on the books in Avon and Somerset.’

Anna ignored him. ‘Bottom line, we’re no further forward in finding the Black Squid, or who killed Alison Johnson. But the Dorells must be involved if they were anything to do with Krastev. Obviously, we’d like to talk to Norcott, too. He drew the fence. He probably knew there was a tunnel.’

‘You like him for the murder of your nurse?’

‘Maybe.’

‘Or maybe he’s just a pawn in the game. A shame you can’t find him, isn’t it?’

Anna saw the look on Shaw’s face. She’d seen it before. He was planting a seed.

The door to the room opened and two nurses entered, followed by the guard. One of the nurses clutched a blood bag.

‘Ah, breakfast,’ Shaw said, grinning. But Anna could see it took an effort.

She took her leave.

‘Don’t be a stranger,’ Shaw called after her.

She thought about wishing him well but held back. Shaw was a killer, and though their relationship was essentially symbiotic, her concern for his well-being was the same she’d have for anyone. Though Shaw had a place in her life, it was not in her heart.