For a long time, Heather didn’t say anything at all. There was a rushing noise in her ears, and a terrible thumping behind her eyes. I know what you are, and I think you know too. She could picture her mother, crouched over a terracotta pot with a knife in one hand, her face twisted with some unknowable emotion.

‘Heather?’

‘I don’t know what to say to that, Ben. Of course I don’t think she was picking these women. I can’t believe my mother was involved at all. But what if the link is my family? My mother?’ She bit her lip. ‘I don’t want to think that way, but that photo, and my mum’s suicide …’

He turned slightly towards her, looking concerned. ‘If there is a link, Heather, we’ll find it.’

‘I know, you’re right. I just …’ She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, thinking hard. What if this was a story for the paper? What questions would you ask? ‘All right, what else? What other things can we reasonably assume about this new killer?’

‘He takes them away somewhere to kill them, he doesn’t kill them at their homes or in any sort of public space. He likes to be in control. I … I don’t think he kills in a frenzy. It’s about power, about exercising power over them, and the presentation of the bodies is all about that, too.’

Heather nodded.

‘I thought that,’ she said absently. ‘That he cares about the bodies. He cares about them beyond death.’

Parker looked at her sharply. ‘Cares isn’t quite the way I would put it.’

‘No, but …’ Heather tapped her fingers against the marble top. ‘Does he care about the way they’re displayed because he wants them to look as much like the original Red Wolf murders as possible? Or because he himself needs them to be that way?’

‘That’s the big question, isn’t it?’ Parker sighed. ‘Does he know Reave, or is he just a very enthusiastic fan?’

‘Yeah. I’m sorry that my chats with Reave haven’t helped much.’

‘They do help, though.’ Parker turned towards her. ‘We might not see how yet, but I’m certain—’

A noise outside made them both turn to the window. It was dark, the glass reflecting back the image of the two of them standing closely together, when a sudden streak of movement made them both jump.

‘Was that a fox?’

Heather laughed nervously, her heart suddenly racing. ‘A dog, maybe?’ Something in her voice must have been off, as Parker touched a hand to the small of her back.

‘Are you all right? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’

‘Yeah, I …’ She took a breath, embarrassed at how jumpy she was. ‘God, I’m all over the place at the moment. Sorry, I’m probably terrible bloody company.’

‘I think you’re pretty great company, actually.’