She opened the passenger door and stepped outside. Taking a battered cigarette from her pocket, she drew in a lungful of smoke that warmed her chest. Blowing rings into the freezing night air, she knew that the man inside the car would be struggling to hold on to life. She heard a noise and assumed that it came from his death throes as his arms flailed against the driver’s window. He was guilty, guilty, guilty. There wasn’t an innocent bone in his body. Married, obviously. Or at least living with someone who cared enough to make sure a capful of fabric softener had been thrown into the washing load. A parent, obviously. Or at least with a kid in his life so close to him that football training and kicks around the park were part of normal life. And what was he doing behind their backs? Screwing around. Messing everything up. He deserved what he got. He did. And there were plenty more like him.

Glancing at her watch she felt irritated; he was taking too long. She opened the door and reached over the passenger seat. He had stopped thrashing and his eyes were closed, his breath shallow and laboured. But…he was still breathing. She didn’t have time for this. Reaching into the back seat she dug her nails into the soft fur of the teddy; shoving it into the man’s face, she held it against his mouth and nose, and waited–until any sign of life was gone.

Good.

Glad that was over, she started on the real work. She delved into her bag again, this time pulling out an ultra-sharp boning knife and poultry cutters. She rifled through his CD collection, quickly looking for something that meant nothing to her, something to muffle the sound of bones shattering, before realizing that heavy music coming from a parked Merc could arouse suspicion, even in a quiet street near the Docks.

She cracked through his ribs. She was proud of her strength. Strategic planning aided her attempts every time. Still, both were means to ends. Plunging the boning knife in, she severed the superior vena cava and neatly removed the organ. She double-bagged it in cling film and popped it into her handbag.

Stepping outside the car, she reached into her bag, lifting out a handheld car vacuum. Her work here was almost done. She reached into her bag again. With her thumb and forefinger she removed a hair, a single hair, from inside a plastic freezer bag.

She left it where she was sure even those idiots from the identification bureau would be sure to find it.

The sooner the better.

PART ONE
Edinburgh November 2008

Chapter One

‘Have you reached a verdict?’ Judge Neil Wylie asked the five women and ten men of the jury.

Show time.