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Chapters (69)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Epigraph
  4. Prologue
  5. Chapter One
  6. Chapter Two
  7. Chapter Three
  8. Chapter Four
  9. Chapter Five
  10. Chapter Six
  11. Chapter Seven
  12. Chapter Eight
  13. Chapter Nine
  14. Chapter Ten
  15. Chapter Eleven
  16. Chapter Twelve
  17. Chapter Thirteen
  18. Chapter Fourteen
  19. Chapter Fifteen
  20. Chapter Sixteen
  21. Chapter Seventeen
  22. Chapter Eighteen
  23. Chapter Nineteen
  24. Chapter Twenty
  25. Chapter Twenty-One
  26. Chapter Twenty-Two
  27. Chapter Twenty-Three
  28. Chapter Twenty-Four
  29. Chapter Twenty-Five
  30. Chapter Twenty-Six
  31. Chapter Twenty-Seven
  32. Chapter Twenty-Eight
  33. Chapter Twenty-Nine
  34. Chapter Thirty
  35. Chapter Thirty-One
  36. Chapter Thirty-Two
  37. Chapter Thirty-Three
  38. Chapter Thirty-Four
  39. Chapter Thirty-Five
  40. Chapter Thirty-Six
  41. Chapter Thirty-Seven
  42. Chapter Thirty-Eight
  43. Chapter Thirty-Nine
  44. Chapter Forty
  45. Chapter Forty-One
  46. Chapter Forty-Two
  47. Chapter Forty-Three
  48. Chapter Forty-Four
  49. Chapter Forty-Five
  50. Chapter Forty-Six
  51. Chapter Forty-Seven
  52. Chapter Forty-Eight
  53. Chapter Forty-Nine
  54. Chapter Fifty
  55. Chapter Fifty-One
  56. Chapter Fifty-Two
  57. Chapter Fifty-Three
  58. Chapter Fifty-Four
  59. Chapter Fifty-Five
  60. Chapter Fifty-Six
  61. Epilogue
  62. Prologue
  63. Chapter One
  64. Acknowledgements
  65. Credits
  66. More from Claire Allan …
  67. About the Author
  68. Also by Claire Allan
  69. About the Publisher

If I just stay where I am, whoever it is will eventually get bored and leave. I’m sure of it. It’s not like they’ll be able to break in, is it? I sit in silence. Afraid to move. I hear several loud, indiscriminate noises, crashes, something smashing, but it sounds too muffled to be one of the windows. Eventually, it goes quiet and I slowly exhale, only to be startled again by a loud thump to the newsroom window. The blinds are closed. Whoever it is can’t see in, but I can’t see out, either. I look at my phone. Maybe I really should phone the police.

But there is no more noise. Not a peep. I try to get back to work, but I’m too rattled and even though I’m sure whoever it was is long gone, I don’t want to be here any more. After fifteen or so minutes, I decide to go home.

My nerves are on high alert as I lock up and I keep my keys bunched in my hand ready to hit out at any attacker who might jump out at me. I scurry to the far end of the car park, cursing myself for parking so far away from the building. Only when I get closer to my car do I see that the driver’s window has been smashed and something has been spray painted across the bonnet.

I look around, again worried someone is watching and waiting. My heart thuds and I’m not sure what to do. Do I run back to the office and try to get back inside? I’m gripping my keys so tightly I can feel them threaten to break the skin. A car passes, its lights illuminating all around me. There is no one else here but me, but still I can’t stop shaking.

In the darkness I struggle to make out what the spray-painted word says, but as my eyes adjust, I clearly see the word ‘scum’. I decide the best thing to do is just to get the hell out of here, as quickly as I can, so I pull on my leather gloves and open the driver’s door, prepared to brush any broken glass out of the way so I can drive off. But there is a rock there, obviously the one used to smash in the window, and around it is a lined page of a notebook, bound with an elastic band. I pull the paper free and unfold it.

Words are scrawled in thick black marker, in block capitals:

LET THE MURDERING PAEDO ROT OR IT WON’T BE A WARNING NEXT TIME.

Chapter Eight

Ingrid