He pushed her onto the bed but yanked her forward as she went to lie back. He looked annoyed at her assumption that he would assault her that way. As if it would be unthinkable.

‘I saw what you did to those girls,’ Jasmine whimpered, terrified she was going to set him off again.

‘It’s not what you think.’

‘Those girls aren’t really dead?’

‘Oh, they are dead. I didn’t kill them though.’

Jasmine hadn’t expected him to say that; then again she wasn’t sure what she’d expected when she walked into this room. It wasn’t anything like this. Was he insane, had he killed these women and forgotten?

He reached into the messenger bag and pulled out a crumpled tissue. He unwrapped it to reveal a necklace. Jasmine’s necklace. Was this his trophy? The thing he would rub between his fingers in order to remember the excitement of the moment she died at his hands? She had read enough about serial killers to know that they liked to keep a memento of their kills.

Tim grabbed two photographs from the bed and handed them to her. One was a folded picture of a girl with a bright smile, billowing black hair and the most mesmerising dark brown eyes. The other picture was of a dead body.

‘What is this? Why did you steal my necklace? What are you going to do to me? Are you going to kill me?’ she said, desperately trying to hold back her tears.

‘That necklace belonged to this girl. Her name is Rosa. She’s wearing it in the picture, see?’

Jasmine examined the picture and saw that she was wearing a necklace like hers.

‘There’s probably loads of those necklaces around. It could have come from anywhere. Where did you get this picture?’

He unfolded the picture and Jasmine saw that Tim was standing with Rosa.

‘This was taken before my fiancée went missing. When they found her, she had been murdered. Look at the necklace in the picture; it’s the same one. You think when they make each one, they put all those tiny little glass beads in exactly the same order?’

The necklace Rosa was wearing was identical to Jasmine’s necklace. How was that possible? Jasmine was struggling with what he was telling her, what he seemed so desperate for her to comprehend.

‘I don’t understand … what are you saying?’

‘The last person to see Rosa alive was your father. I think he killed her. I think he killed all these girls.’

Chapter Forty-Two