She had her methods by this point. There had been a lot to organize and it had taken a while to do it, but she was exactly where she needed to be. She thought back on the three men already dead at her hands. She laughed to herself, a low, soft noise that made her seem gentle and warm. She had read all of the books on how to do this, on how to avoid being caught, and on what killers do. She couldn’t believe that some of them kept mementoes, trophies. She had all of that in her head. She had nothing against those men as such–yes, she hated them, and had taken their lives, but it wasn’t personal. What on earth could she have taken from them? They were just symbols in themselves. Was she expected to fill her handbag with cufflinks? Locks of hair? Photos of them in their final moments? She had what she wanted from them–their bodies, their deaths; and the absolute knowledge that they had helped her.

Since she had arrived here, it had all been so easy. These men, they all thought their needs were so important. Each of them so easy to spot. She always looked for particular cars–single businessmen were no use, she needed to make sure that they were guilty beyond her own certainty. Bigger cars, expensive cars, but ones with baby or booster seats. Little triangles on the back saying ‘baby on board’. Mr Men sunscreens that had been rolled up but were still identifiable. Good men, good fathers. Making sure their children were safe, happy and provided for. And while they themselves were away from home, what was wrong with a few minutes of downtime?

Every businessman in every city in the country knew where to go. If they didn’t, there were websites to tell them. There had always been so much publicity about the red-light district in Edinburgh that it wasn’t hard to find. Even if the girls had been moved around a bit, it didn’t take much to discover where. The drugs were everywhere, too. Edinburgh had changed. There used to be less dependency amongst the prostitutes in the capital than in other cities, but in the last couple of years it had got as bad as anywhere. Cheap rates for everything. That worked well for her on two levels. She could get heroin easily and for next to nothing. And because she was clean, good looking and articulate, she appealed to the better class of punter as soon as he rolled down his window.