‘It was pretty bad. Blood everywhere. He screamed blue murder, and while he did, I threw my hot coffee in his face.’ She looked away from Ben, not wanting to see the expression on his face just then. She didn’t mention the shroud of cold that had settled over her just before she’d done it, or the pure, beautiful sensation that this little man did not matter, and that she could hurt him if she wanted to – the pleasure his pain had brought her. She did not mention the satisfaction of hearing him holler, or how the sight of his blood on her desk had pleased her. The image of it was still very vivid. ‘All hell broke loose, of course. Ultimately, though, I just got the sack. I could have made it very difficult for them, you see. Bringing up institutionalized sexism in the current climate would have gone down like a giant sack of shit, so they talked him into not pressing charges and I just left.’

Outside, an ambulance wailed its way down the road, throwing up a brief flash of blue light across rain-spattered windows.

‘Listen, Ben, I’m a shit person, okay? I’m a mess, always have been. God.’ She swallowed past the bitter laughter that was bubbling up her throat. ‘Yeah, I wanted to get my career back, I wanted to try and understand a serial killer, maybe stop something dreadful from happening, but I can also stand here and say, yes, I also wanted you, and I didn’t make that up. I was glad you turned up on my doorstep, and I’m not sorry you ended up in my bed.’ She looked down into her tea, furious that she was suddenly close to crying. ‘That night was the only bright spot in what has been a pretty hideous fucking month.’

‘Heather,’ Ben took a step towards her and then stopped, seeming to think better of it. ‘Heather, this taints the investigation. It’s not like I’m investigating some shoplifting here, or tax evasion. People are dying. And I’ve been led down the garden path by someone who was looking for information, for juicy details that she can use to spice up a newspaper article. I have a duty to the victims and by letting you do this I have failed them.’ He stopped and ran both hands through his hair. There was less anger now; instead he seemed tired, and sad. ‘Someone else has gone missing, a woman with two little kids, I …’ He shook his head ruefully. ‘You’d think I’d have learned my lesson about telling you this stuff, right? The point is, I don’t have time for it. Not if I want to stop this bastard.’

‘I’m sorry, Ben.’

‘Yeah, well. I’m sorry too.’