‘No problem.’ Clearly the girl was more traumatized than she wanted to admit. They could come back to it. ‘What about you, Sarah, are you into anything spiritual?’

The look of confusion returned. ‘Why do you think that?’

‘No reason.’ Hawkins fished for an answer that wouldn’t increase her subject’s discomfort. She had resisted the urge to question Sarah during their car journey to Feltham station the previous night, mainly because the young woman had been so obviously distressed, fearing that the initial shock might produce an unfavourable reaction. She had asked the Victim Support team to deliver the girl straight home once she’d been checked over. The idea had been to do this initial interview unofficially, somewhere Sarah wouldn’t feel intimidated, hopefully to glean some quick answers. Except it wasn’t working, and if she pushed too hard now, it might be days before Sarah felt safe enough to tell them anything that could help the investigation.

She decided to tread carefully, preserve the girl’s composure for now. ‘I just wondered if you understood any of the chanting they used.’

Sarah studied the worn wool blanket spread across her bedclothes; eventually shook her head.

‘That’s fine.’ Hawkins’ mind raced. She needed to know how, indeed if, the ceremony she’d witnessed was connected to the other deaths. If Mardell’s gang was responsible for all the murders, why were all the other victims male, and why had none been killed as part of a ritual like this one? Did their culture dictate that men and women were treated differently – that men were killed without damaging the bodies, while a woman’s murder was done with a knife and an audience? Was it possible the girl’s sacrifice was part of a separate operation?

Or maybe it was all just coincidence, and the killer was still on the loose.

Hawkins chewed at her lower lip, reminding herself that Mardell had also been watching the Paranormal Society, one of whose members had already died. She remembered the words of Superintendent Whiting at Counter Terrorism Command …

Behaviours typical of terrorist sleeper cells.

Plus, Mardell had run when approached. He was too desperate to escape for the whole thing to have been a misunderstanding. And, if they were right about the group’s aggression towards similar organizations, who knew what rules governed the ways they treated members of the opposition once ensnared?

She needed to know.

‘OK, Sarah,’ she said gently. ‘I’d like to go back to last night. I don’t need much; just a basic outline of how you came to be there. Can you do that for me?’

Slowly, Sarah looked up. She made eye contact and her mouth opened, but then her head dropped on to her knees and she began to sob, her shoulders heaving.