‘Hey.’ Hawkins reached across and placed a reassuring hand on the teenager’s wrist, now fearing the worst. She should have brought a liaison officer after all. ‘The people who did this are all locked up. You’re safe.’

After a moment, the narrow shoulders began to settle, and a muffled voice asked, ‘What’ll happen to them?’

‘Well, that depends on what we find out. Part of that information will come from our investigation, but mostly it comes from witnesses like you. That’s why it’s so important for me to know how they captured you.’

No response.

Hawkins pressed. ‘Were you kidnapped?’

A shake of the head.

‘Then how did you come to be there?’

‘I went … with them.’

Hawkins leaned closer, now thinking that Sarah must have been groomed. ‘You know these people?’

‘Kind of.’

Progress. ‘The man in the goat mask.’

Sarah shut her eyes. ‘Malcolm.’

‘It’s OK, Sarah. How do you know him?’

‘I … I don’t want to …’

‘No problem. Tell me about the ritual.’

Sarah hesitated, breathing hard. ‘What do you mean?’

‘The ceremony they were performing. Why was Malcolm wearing the mask?’

‘That’s Dionysus. The Horned God.’

‘How do you know that?’

‘I …’ She began crying again.

Hawkins paused, thinking hard. If Sarah had gone to the location with the gang, she must have known them in advance, which suggested that at least one of the perpetrators, probably Malcolm, had planned her involvement. It wasn’t a surprise, of course; the other victims had arrived at the scenes of their deaths voluntarily, too, but if they were linked, Sarah was the first to have survived her encounter, mainly due to Hawkins’ intervention. The way she had been drawn in would provide vital clues to the killer’s true motivation.

Her issue now was getting the distraught teenager to explain.

She stood, hoping that a break might settle the girl’s nerves, and began assessing the room for evidence of hobbies or interests they could discuss to break the tension.

The bedroom itself was tiny, its uneven walls bare, perhaps an illustration of her father’s circumstances, tied to a struggling business that meant he probably wasn’t sure how much longer they’d be here. Why maintain a home you expected to leave?

Aside from the bed and a compact wardrobe at its foot, the only furniture was a small dressing table in the opposite corner. Its surface was a jumble of brushes, straightening tongs, make-up, and an old mirror propped against the wall at the back. A single, slightly crumpled photo of Sarah’s father and a woman Hawkins assumed was his estranged wife had been taped to the mirror’s edge. Cheap trinkets hung from a jewellery tree beside a circular wooden dish with five sculpted sections that held an assortment of earrings and bracelets.