Emily’s last words, Mark guessed. Before that night when it had all ended.

Stephanie. Her sister.

She was talking about not trusting her own sister. Mark stared down at the words, hoping they would change somehow.

He had watched Stephanie when she’d seen Emily’s body earlier that day. That wasn’t someone who didn’t care. He had watched her face as the truth crashed into it and her world changed in an instant.

Emily had been wrong. Stephanie had cared deeply. He didn’t know why Emily didn’t know that.

Mark didn’t know what to do.

No one was meant to see this letter. It was the random words of someone who was seriously troubled. She had got herself into a situation she couldn’t control and come to harm. There was a mental slip happening before Emily disappeared, that was clear now.

It wasn’t Stephanie’s fault. It couldn’t be.

Mark slid the paper back into the envelope, letting it dangle in his hands, working out what to do next.

Mark could feel his hands shaking as he held the envelope tighter. He knew what he was going to do, without knowing why.

He needed to make them see that there was more to this than just a couple of unconnected bodies, found on the streets of the city within days of each other.

He heard footsteps in the corridor behind him, coming towards the bathroom. Mark stood up quickly, looked down at the envelope, at the door.

Then, as a voice called his name, he thought about stuffing the envelope in his pocket and doing this alone.

Instead, he shouted back through the door.

‘Coming out now.’

He needed to make them see.

To know that he wasn’t what they thought of him. That he was good enough for this job.

That he knew what he was doing.

He needed to find out what The Game was.

That was the key to all of this.

Thirty-Eight

DS Cavanagh was waiting for him outside the bathroom, his head tilted to one side as Mark emerged, realising quickly that something had been found.

‘Come on, out with it,’ DS Cavanagh said, leaning against the wall opposite. ‘You look like the cat that got the cream – or the milk – whatever it is.’

‘I’ve found something,’ Mark replied, unable to keep the excitement from his voice now. ‘There is more to all of this than just randomness. There’s something called The Game—’

‘What did you find?’ DS Cavanagh interrupted, holding out his hand.

Mark handed over the letter and watched as the DS scanned the contents, his gloved hands crinkling the paper. ‘It’s all connected,’ he said, as Cavanagh continued to read. ‘I think all the odd things Emily has been doing are part of it.’

‘What odd things?’

‘I don’t know everything, but Emily was witnessed behaving strangely in public before she went missing.’