Carry Tomlin was known to be a fairly reckless individual who wasn’t well liked at work: she was arrogant and given to condescension at times. In other words, no one was interested in who she’d arranged to meet. The initial apparent grief in her office had been just that: apparent. It was shock at the proximity to the crime, and not sentimental. One colleague had told them that the young journalist was desperate to break into a national newspaper and had taken risks before. On a recent fishing story, she’d pleaded with the skipper of a trawler to be allowed to accompany a trip, and had almost disappeared over the side in bad weather. She’d bagged some great photos and produced a sellable story, but it was only after the production of the piece that anyone knew she’d gone.

The ‘meeting a stranger’ lead was looking more and more promising. So who’d be able to lure a hard-nosed journalist to her death? She’d find out more tomorrow when Carry Tomlin gave Ted Wallis some of her final secrets.

She shivered. Kirk Junker might be contemplating his next killing. Or he might not even exist. Harry O’Connor existed, but so far no one could find him either, except on the case files of two animal cruelty cases eight years apart. Nobody at the time had associated the two brutal cases because they were investigated by two separate teams: one in Penrith, the 2005 case Kelly had looked into, and the other had been passed to Kendal for some reason. The merry cult led by Fred O’Reilly bothered her and she knew they weren’t telling her everything they knew. But she had no leverage. She certainly didn’t have any of them down as capable of savagery towards animals, but there was something about their ways and habits that reminded Kelly of a band of brothers, willing to risk all to protect the group. In such circumstances it was almost impossible to break the bond and get people talking.

Before she got to the door, Johnny opened it and stood, waiting for her, smiling. He opened his arms and she went to him and they stood together. He kissed her neck and smelled her perfume. His warmth felt like a huge glove of security to her. He smelled of bed and a recent shower and she felt herself aroused. She disliked having sex in the same house as a teenager, but occasionally she couldn’t resist, and she knew that tonight would be one of those times. She needed to feel connection and to let go, lying in his arms until she fell asleep, finally allowed to turn her brain off, even if just for a night.

He took her rucksack and handbag off her and shut the door behind her. She walked into the dark lounge and took off her jacket and shoes.