‘No!’ cries Archer.

As the car races through the traffic Archer watches in despair as Faulkner’s trembling increases. His face turns red and contorts with terror. He begins to sob as he stares down at the liquid below. His mouth opens. She cannot hear but can sees that he is calling for help. His eyes widen and panic fills his expression. She feels a shudder sweep through her own body as Faulkner’s knees buckle and his body plunges into the liquid below. His eyes snap open at the shock and he screams a silent scream as he kicks his legs to stay afloat. But his hands are bound, he is weak. After a few more seconds, Faulkner sinks lower into the vitrine as the rope slowly squeezes the life from him.

‘Faulkner’s gone,’ says Archer.

‘What the fuck! He was our number one suspect.’

‘Shit!’

At the North Circular, Archer sees the crumbling grey façade of an old gothic-style house peeking out from the stark bare trees beyond. She points toward it. ‘There it is.’

Klara calls and Archer puts her on speaker. ‘Where are you?’

‘Almost there!’ replies Archer.

‘Backup is en route. Oh and by the way, we have identification on the third man. He’s a student reported missing by his flatmate. The victim’s name is Thomas Butler.’

Quinn turns onto Twyford Abbey Road and passes rows of semi-detached brick houses.

‘Where the flying fuck are we?’

‘Look for a gate buried in amongst bushes,’ shouts Klara. ‘It’s an old manor house so the gate should be big.’

Archer sees it and points ahead. ‘There. Look.’

Quinn speeds up what looks like a secluded road and skids to a halt at the tall, rusted double gate. Signs in vivid reds, blues and yellows hang from the iron rails.

BEWARE OF THE DOGS

KEEP OUT

PRIVATE PROPERTY

DANGEROUS

Archer jumps out and hauls the gates with all her strength, opening them wide before running back to the car. In the distance she can hear sirens approaching. They arrive outside the derelict gothic mansion and run up to the entrance, but the door is locked.

A voice calls from inside. She looks at her phone and sees Jamie calling out.

Quinn tries to force the door open but it won’t budge.

Lying on the ground is a rusty old golf club. Archer grabs it and hits the door with it, causing little more than chips of wood to fly from the surface.

‘Help. Please help me!’ calls Jamie.

‘Jamie. It’s Grace Archer. Is he there with you now?’

‘No!’ His voice is faint and weak.

‘Please hang on!’ calls Archer.