The director’s face fills the screen once more. There are a few intakes of breath at the level of violence and suffering his face shows. The room is silent as everyone’s unbridled attention is fixed on the screen. Some are taking notes, scribbling in pads whilst keeping their eyes firmly glued on the action.

When the video reaches the point where the second man speaks, a few people sit up in their chairs and actively look like they are straining their ears for something; a hint of an accent or a regional expression. As Ross had warned me, the speech still sounds faint and garbled and there are no discernible words. I’m disappointed but I’ve got faith in Ross that he will be able to transform the words into something recognisable with a little more time.

The film rolls on and I watch again as Reuben’s eyes widen and the crate is kicked from under him, his struggle against the tightened noose, his fingers searching for any hint of looseness but knowing there is none to be found. I watch the toes of his shoes almost make contact with the dusty, concrete floor and will him to extend his legs a fraction more. I sigh wistfully as his body becomes limp; the life draining out of him as the throes of death settle.

As the film ends, the room is filled with exhalations. It seems everyone had been holding their breath. Conversations erupt about what they have just seen and I let them discuss their points of view, before walking to the front of the room and trying to regain some sense of order. I hold my hand up and the noise mostly subsides.

‘Did anyone notice anything of worth? I know the man who is off camera’s speech is distorted, but what else have we got?’ I ask the room.

Angela stands up and walks to the computer, moving the cursor of the film to the point where the crate gets kicked from under Reuben’s feet. The frozen image stays on screen and she points to the boot.

‘This looks like the same type of boot that would’ve left the marks on Anna’s face and also in the mud at the end of the alley where Jay’s body was found. I’d say the man behind the camera is the same man who has killed the others.’

She returns to her seat, amongst murmurs of agreement. Liam stands up, though he doesn’t move from his place. He looks like he is struggling with what he is about to say, and I think I know why.

‘Boss, that place,’ he points at the screen that is still paused at the moment Reuben’s fate was sealed.

The camera is at its most zoomed out and shows the cavernous room in all its glory; the uneven floor, the rickety stairs leading to a metal balcony and the faded sign of a company that used to call the warehouse its home before the recession forced job cuts. I didn’t notice the sign on first viewing but now that I do, it’s like an ice pick through my heart. The building where Reuben lost his life is the same building that I almost lost mine a year ago. The text message from the killer wasn’t his only way of making this personal. Somehow, he knows what that place means to me. He chose it for a reason.