A few moments passed. Then she exhaled a long stream of white smoke which instantly suffused the cell with a sharp chemical odour. It seemed to take ages for her to empty her lungs of it.

Bailey coughed and waved the smoke out of her face.

Mel slumped back against the wall and emitted a deep orgasmic moan. ‘Oh god!’

Bailey watched her, emotionless, tapping her fingers gently against the side of the chair, waiting…

Mel lay there for what may have been a few minutes, bathed in drug bliss. Then, without opening her eyes, she started speaking. To Bailey’s surprise, her voice was measured and quite sane-sounding. This was a completely different Mel…

‘I used to work the streets around Walsall and Wolverhampton. That’s where I’m from. The Midlands. Know it?’

‘I’ve passed through it on the train a few times.’

‘I worked in the red-light district there. All Saints it’s called. Me and my friends. We did good business. When I came down to London, I did the same thing because that was the only thing I knew how to do. It’s what I was best at.’

She sighed and opened her eyes a crack and looked at Bailey, who was listening intently.

‘The men are rank and the sex is shit. And it’s dodgy as hell. But it’s easy money. And if you’re desperate for cash because you need to buy drugs, then you do it. You just close your eyes and get on with it.’

Bailey stared at her, saddened that someone could live their life in such a way.

Mel’s glazed eyes stared back into the past. ‘But then it gets to the point where you’re taking the drugs just so you can deal with the sex, which you’re doing just so you can buy more drugs. And that’s how it goes…’

Bailey didn’t want to seem insensitive, but right now she needed to get the name of the killer.

‘Yes, Mel, that’s, er, interesting, but how does it relate—’

‘They found the first one dumped in a car park in Walsall.’

Bailey leaned in closer. Mel had her full attention.

‘He’d killed her with a knife. Stabbed her. Cut her throat. But he’d also done… an odd thing.’

‘What kind of “odd thing”?’

‘He cut her hair off.’

‘Cut her hair off?’ Bailey frowned, puzzled.

‘Yeah. Chopped off a load and took it. Don’t ask me why because I don’t know.’ Mel sighed – a soft sad sound. ‘I knew her. She was my friend. They were all my friends. He killed a whole load of them. They were just trying to get by… just like me. We were all just trying to make a living the only way we knew how.’

Her face twisted now, bitter.

‘But he didn’t care. He killed and killed and killed… girls like me. Easy prey. Girls that had nothing… who had nobody… nobody who cared about them. Maybe that’s why they never caught him… because no one really cared enough about us.’