In the meantime, the public wonders when the next attack will come. Tina Rhodes, Professor of Criminal Psychology at Liverpool University, said it could be soon.

‘It’s an unpleasant subject to address, but having failed to kill his last victim, it is possible, indeed likely, that the Crucifix Killer will act again in the near future. This kind of personality type often needs a “fix”, which they get from their horrendous crimes. Having missed the last fix, the need to kill again may sharpen.’

It is a troubling thought, but the facts are clear: we must remain vigilant until the streets are rid of this scourge.

Tom

He sat by the bay window at the front of the house, the early morning sun already warm on his face. Next to him, Joanna slept. Alice was in bed; he’d woken early so she could have a lie-in.

He opened Facebook and searched for Nellie Clarke, then composed a message.

Hi. You don’t know me but I’m Alice Barnes’s – now Sark’s – husband. It’s her birthday coming up and I was thinking of making her a photo album – old school, I know, but it’s nice to have a physical object these days. I have loads of photos of us before we had our daughter (and even more since – she’s more photographed than a pop star!) but I’ve got hardly any from before we met. She lost them all at some point, which is the reason I’m getting in touch – I hope it’s no trouble, but I was wondering whether you have any photos of her you could scan and send? I can get them printed my end. If you can help, would you also mind asking Madeline? Thanks, and sorry to be a pain! Tom

He hit send, then lay back and closed his eyes.

He was woken by Joanna crying. He took her from her basket and held her to his chest. She started to settle, and he reached for his phone.

He’d noticed recently that checking his phone had become a kind of reflex action. Get out of the shower: quick check of the phone. Break in conversation: quick check of the phone. Jo settles: quick check of the phone. It had really hit him when he got in a lift at work with a group – a small group, as people still didn’t like enclosed spaces – and all of them immediately checked their phones, him included. He’d only checked it seconds before, but still, there he was, glued to the screen to see if any emails or messages or notifications had popped up.

He had one now, from Facebook Messenger. It was Nellie.