Chapters (38)
- Cover
- Also by Betsy Reavley
- Praise for Betsy Reavley
- Epigraph
- Dedication
- Prologue
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgments
- Author’s Note
- A Note From Bloodhound Books
Not only were the team swamped with the murder cases but also it seemed a gang of thieves were working in the area, breaking into some of the more desirable homes in the city and robbing them. The gang was spray painting the walls of the houses and destroying everything they could. There was always an increase of thefts at Christmas time but neither Barrett nor Palmer had ever witnessed such destructive behaviour during robberies. The families of those burgled houses were now facing a miserable Christmas. The thieves appeared to be taking special pleasure in destroying all the Christmas decorations in the houses they broke into. The local press had nicknamed the criminals The Grinch Gang and the pressure was mounting on the Cambridge Constabulary to bring those responsible to justice, as well as to apprehend a sadistic killer who still stalked the streets.
Mohammed arrived at six ten, running late after a long driving shift. Typically, his last job of the day had been a long-distance journey to Harlow. If he’d been familiar with the term sod’s law he would have chuckled to himself.
He lived in a small flat on the outskirts of the town with his wife and three children. The house was small and the rent, in his opinion, was expensive. His wife worked part-time for a cleaning company that dealt with businesses rather than family homes. The pair had left Nigeria wanting a better life for their children but had not yet entirely settled into their new existence. The children had found their feet, the way children do, but the parents were struggling with the language and the awful weather. It was the first time any member of the family had ever seen snow. Until recently it was something that had only existed in books and on television.
Mohammed had spent a small fortune on suitable coats, hats and gloves for the family. He had taken them all to TK Maxx, a designer outlet store off Newmarket Road. The children had run around the store with glee, running their hands over the rails of clothes. His wife, who was a reserved woman, spent her time checking every price tag before deciding what she and the children would purchase.