It was the last thing Kelly expected to hear.

‘Jesus. Fill me in, I’ll go straight there.’

‘Female, early twenties, mixed race, no witnesses, no weapon at the scene and no one’s talking.’

‘Typical. Address?’

Johnny rolled over and put his hand out.

‘There’s been another fatal stabbing, this time on the estate itself,’ she told him. That woke him up.

‘Christ, do you think it’s a pattern?’

‘I’ll soon find out.’ She bent over to kiss him. He held her, and she felt his warm body beneath her and wished she could stay.

‘I’m going to have a quick shower,’ she said.

‘It’s a big shower, I’ll come with you.’

She thought about protesting, but Johnny knew the difference between making love slowly and making the most of an opportunity. They weren’t about to break any records for tantric sex, but they both needed the connection. It was a good job she’d intended to wash her hair.

Twenty-five minutes later, she was on the road and using her blues to cruise through the traffic to Penrith. As a police officer, driving into any of the rough estates in Penrith was daunting. Beacon was the worst. She pulled a bobble hat over her wet hair and fastened her Rab jacket. The air was bitter, but quite a crowd had gathered in the early-morning light. It was a residential area, so this time there must surely be witnesses. But getting them to talk was quite a different matter.

The woman was still in situ. Ted was going to have a busy day. Kelly parked and showed her ID. Uniforms, on scene long before her, questioned the small crowd, as well as keeping an eye on any brewing trouble.

She went inside the erected tent and spoke to the CSI, who was sketching the scene.

‘She was stabbed and left to bleed out,’ he told her.

‘Who found her?’

‘A woman going to work at the local petrol station. The victim was unconscious by then, so we don’t have a time frame yet. I’m assuming it was quick, given the amount of blood and the lack of rigor. Also the public location: she’d have been found quickly in the middle of a housing estate, where people are up and about getting ready for work.’

Kelly wondered how many people on the Beacon Estate were actually leaving for jobs, but left the thought alone. The location was less than a mile from where Ella had been stabbed yesterday. She’d have to consider if they were connected. It was easy to assume, simply because of the weapon, location and victimology: lone women.

Her phone rang and she looked at the name on the screen. Superintendent Ormond. Fuck.

‘Kelly. Are they connected?’

‘Sir, with respect, I’ve only just arrived on scene. I’m not making any assumptions.’

‘I thought I could give something to Thomas Watson.’