‘Thanks, Klara. Find out all you can about them,’ asks Archer.

‘Will do.’

Archer sees the towering blocks of Canary Wharf nearby.

‘We’re almost there!’ says Quinn.

They arrive at the peninsula.

‘There it is!’

Archer looks up to see an abandoned warehouse on the opposite side of a rubble-strewn waste ground. Broken glass and rubbish clatters and cracks under the tyres of the squad car as Quinn speeds towards the rundown building.

They skid to a stop outside the entrance. The large brown doors are cracked open revealing the gloom inside with a faint red glow. Archer looks back to see the other vehicles pull up including a van filled with armed police. She wonders if they will be needed but it is better to be safe than sorry.

Retrieving a torch from the boot of the car she makes her way to the entrance elbowing open the door and peering inside. The interior is vast with broken windows and gaps in the roof letting through a murky pale autumn light. The cabinets are in the middle of the space and are situated in a semi-circle in front of a battered steel table with three devices broadcasting the scene.

Archer feels sick to her stomach.

She runs the beam around the interior of the warehouse but there is no sign of anyone.

She hears Quinn talking into the car radio.

‘SOCOs are on the way,’ he says.

‘Let’s go in,’ says Archer. She turns to the head of the armed police. ‘Sergeant Ward, DS Quinn and I will suit up and go in first. Perhaps you could follow and ask your men to wait for now.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

Archer opens the boot of the squad car and she and Quinn unpack disposable forensic suits. She hands Ward a pair of disposable shoe covers. ‘Keep your distance, but don’t stray too far. Just in case.’

‘Yes, ma’am. Understood.’

The sickly-sweet smell of formaldehyde permeates the air as Archer and Quinn walk side by side following the beam of her torch as it scours every dark, hidden corner.

As Quinn switches off the phone broadcasts, Archer stands as close to the cabinets as she can without the risk of contaminating the scene. The women’s eyes and mouths are closed, which gives them a look of serenity that seems at odds with the harsh bruises around their necks. The blonde woman has a bruise around her eye and a small scab on her lip. Archer feels a crushing sadness that burns and crackles as a surge of anger roars through her body. Who the hell does this maniac think he is?

She will find him and won’t give up until she does. She looks at the three women.

‘I promise, I will stop him,’ she whispers.

Chapter 31

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