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“He’s going to confess,” I said.

Rowan laughed. “Hardly.”

“He is.”

Rowan stopped pacing and turned to stare at me. “What are you talking about?” I saw the moment realization dawned. “You can possess people.”

“I can,” I agreed. “I can walk him straight into a police station, and there isn’t a thing he can do about it.”

“You could walk him in front of a Tube train instead.”

“That would still be killing him.”

A ghost of a smile flickered across Rowan’s lips. “It was worth a try.”

“Do you want me to make him confess?” I asked.

Rowan threw himself onto the sofa, his expression suggesting that he was thinking furiously. “The problem is, if you make him confess, he’ll recant the second you’re not controlling him anymore.”

I took a seat opposite him. “It won’t matter. They’ll have enough to investigate your mother’s house.”

“They already did,” Rowan said. “The bastard must have done a good job of cleaning up.”

“But they didn’t know where they were supposed to look. There’s probably still trace evidence on the hearth. No amount of cleaning can get rid of everything.”

Rowan frowned. “How would you know that?”

I jerked my head toward the television. “Did you know there are five different CSI programs?”

“I did not.”

“Plus, Tyler will have the ring.”

Rowan nodded slowly. “Even with nothing else, the confession and the ring should be enough.”

“Is that a yes?”

He met my gaze. “Yes. But you need to do it quickly before he runs.”

“It wouldn’t matter,” I said with a degree of arrogance. “Wherever he goes, I can find him and put him on a plane.” I stood, ready to put the plan into action.

“Cal?”

I turned back.

“If this doesn’t work, and it looks like he’s going to get away with it, then will you kill him?”

“If that’s really what you want, then yes.”

Rowan smiled. This time, it reached his eyes. “Let’s plan this properly. No more fucking up.”

Tyler was throwing clothes into an open suitcase with little regard for how they landed when I returned to the house. His passport sat on the sofa beside his wallet and a pile of cash.

Rowan had been right. Tyler was running.

I watched from between planes while he hurried into the bathroom and swept toiletries into a smaller bag. His movements were frantic. Every now and again, he’d stop and listen. Sometimes he stared directly at the place where I stood, his jaw working as he convinced himself that a shadow had moved.

I considered showing myself, but that wasn’t the plan. Rowan had me repeat every stage until he felt confident I understood. I wasn’t to risk him getting away by playing with him. And most importantly, I wasn’t to improvise.