I suddenly feel split in two: one part urging me on, the other telling me to get up and walk out, leave all this behind. Because the last thing I want is to get sucked back in. But I think of Lucie Muller, and the man I put away for her death, Sander Klaasen. I take a breath, then I begin to talk.

Lucie Muller

‘Fuck,’ Jansen says as I finish. He breathes out, shaking his head and grimacing all at the same time.

The canteen staff are clearing out the last plates of unwanted food and a man in a dark blue boiler suit is mopping the floor morosely. Jansen leans back in his chair and stares at the ceiling, trying to take in all that I’ve just told him. My throat’s dry and I shake the can, upending it for the last tiny warm dribble. The window cycles between green and red.

‘How sure are you?’ Jansen finally asks.

‘About the way she was killed? Hundred per cent. The victim in that case was found exactly as your victim was, naked, same posture, and I’ll bet all the blood came from a cut across the throat?’

‘Yeah, it did. So the first question’s going to be has the man you put away been let out of prison?’

‘He got thirty years, so it’s unlikely. I guess if he’d been on best behaviour, there’s an outside chance he might just have got an early release. But the victim in the case was the daughter of a judge, and I doubt there’s a parole board anywhere in the country he couldn’t influence, if it ever came to that.’

‘Who’s the judge?’

‘Koen Muller.’

Jansen’s pensive, processing the info I’ve dropped into his lap. Which on the one hand is potentially good, a lead in a stalled case. On the other, the implications are anything but.

‘So what have we got on our hands here, a copycat killer?’

Copycat. Not a word anyone wants to hear in relation to a murder. People kill for all sorts of reasons, usually money and sexual jealousy of one type or another. But killing just to imitate another murderer indicates a special kind of warped mind. Not one I want anything to do with. I’m about to tell him I need to go when he speaks again.

‘Listen, I’m working this case with Inspector Vermeer. She needs to hear this –’

‘But not from me. You can look up the case to get the full details.’

‘It’s so weird we didn’t get any red flags; we ran all the details through the system and no match came up. I can’t believe no one here remembers the case either. Surely someone would?’