The two police officers had just finished dealing with a minor disturbance at the Holly Tree Inn when they saw the Vauxhall Corsa skidding around the corner, on the wrong side of the road, and speeding off up to the village. The headlights were off, all the windows were wide open, and Slade’s “Merry Xmas Everybody” was booming out from the car radio.

Inside the car, Gordon was singing along at the top of his voice:

“IT’S CHRIIIISTMAAAASSSS!”

The two police officers — PCs Annie Hobbes and Mark Smith — ran across the pub parking lot, jumped into their car, and sped off after the Corsa.

It was 4:47 p.m.

Gordon was so entranced with the simple joy of singing that he didn’t notice the police car for a while. He could hear the siren, but he thought it was coming from the radio, and even when he did finally see the flashing blue lights in his rearview mirror, he still didn’t realize what they were. He saw them as electric-blue stars from another universe . . . Christmas stars . . . lights at the end of the world . . .

And then, quite suddenly, the wondrousness in his mind shut down, and a drug-crazed panic took over. Chaotic thoughts streamed through his head — policepolicepolice oh no no no please no theycan’t Ican’tstop if I stop I lose everythingeverything gottagetaway gottagetaway gottagetaway — and as he put his foot down and sped up, the police car accelerated too.

Jenner and Dake both heard the siren at the same time, and they both knew right away that it wasn’t an ambulance or a fire engine.

Dake immediately went over to the window and reached for the curtain, but Jenner told him to leave it.

“Yeah, but what if —?”

“Just leave it. They’re not after us.”

“How do you know?”

“No one knows we’re here, do they?”

“What’s-her-name does . . . the bank girl.”

Jenner shook his head. “She won’t have said anything. She can’t rat us out without implicating herself, and she’s not going to do that.”

“She might have been drunk or something and told one of her friends . . . you know, bragging about it, trying to impress them . . .”

Jenner didn’t answer. Dake was right, Kaylee did have a big mouth when she was drinking, and she had been on the booze today, and it wasn’t difficult to imagine her boasting drunkenly about her “criminal connections,” but Jenner wasn’t going to admit to it.

“If the cops were on to us,” he told Dake, “do you really think they’d come speeding up here with their lights and sirens blazing, letting us know they’re coming?”

“No . . . I guess not.”

“Exactly.”

As the two of them stood there listening to the rapidly approaching siren, Grace and Shirley were listening to it too. They’d heard Jenner talking to Dake about it, and although they didn’t understand the stuff about the “bank girl,” it was obvious that Jenner didn’t think the police siren had anything to do with them. But that didn’t stop Grace and Shirley from hoping. They had to hope the police were coming, that any second now the siren would stop and a police car would screech to a halt outside the house, and they’d see the blue lights flashing through the curtains, and they’d hear the car doors opening, and a moment later clonking shut, and then . . .

A car sped past outside, its engine screaming as it raced up into the village, and a few seconds later the wail of the siren drew level with the house, blue lights flashed across the curtains, and the pitch of the siren dropped as the police car shot past in pursuit of the speeding car.

“What did I tell you?” Jenner said casually, trying to hide his sense of relief.

Dake gave him a nod of acknowledgment.

And all Grace and Shirley could do was listen forlornly as the siren faded away into the distance, taking their hopes with it.