No use digging up the past, Karen. None of us are perfect and bad things happen. Better to forget it.

A sliver of fear crept in. The problem was, she wasn’t entirely sure whether she had actually chosen to forget some things, and questions from the women in the recovery cafe might reveal those she didn’t want to remember. Was she making a mistake discussing the past with Marge and the others?

‘No.’ She shook her head. She wanted to be prepared for when the police came calling. She wanted to be clear what had happened, so she could tell them.

But what if you did something wrong? a small voice said. What if you were responsible in some way for what happened to Mary?

Back at the house now, fear engulfed Karen as she shakily tried to put her key in the lock, desperate to get inside and away from the encroaching darkness. When the hall light snapped on, she stood for a moment, breathing in, waiting for her heart to slow in the safety of familiar surroundings.

‘I’m back, Jack,’ she called, attempting to sound cheery. ‘Safe and sound.’

In the silence that followed, Karen imagined she heard his grunt of approval.

‘I’ll put the kettle on,’ she announced. ‘We could both do with a cup of tea.’

Hanging up her coat, she spotted something lying on the mat. At first, she thought it might be a slip from the window cleaner, saying he’d done the windows for her while she was out.

As she retrieved it, she immediately knew she was wrong. The note wasn’t from the window cleaner, but from someone else entirely.

There was a single line which read:

I know who you are.

24

‘Word is another girl went missing in her confirmation dress, from York, in 1974,’ Chrissy told Rhona.

‘When did you hear that?’ Rhona said.

‘I have my sources.’ Chrissy’s left eyebrow rose to reflect that fact.

‘Bona fide?’

‘Of course.’ Her forensic assistant sounded peeved that Rhona might think otherwise. ‘There’s a list of possibles being produced at the strategy meeting. Only one was abducted wearing a white dress.’

They were seated at the bar of the jazz club, awaiting their wine. It arrived just as Chrissy made her announcement. Rhona lifted the cold glass and took a sip, giving herself time to contemplate Chrissy’s latest piece of news.

‘Well?’ Chrissy was looking for a response to this interesting update.

‘At the moment we have one victim and we haven’t yet established who that victim is. But hopefully we’ll know soon,’ Rhona said. She was saved from Chrissy’s reply because her assistant had just spotted the figure of McNab coming down the stairs.

‘Plus,’ Chrissy said in a loud whisper, ‘I know why McNab wants to speak to you.’ She smiled her success.

Before Rhona could react to this, McNab joined them and, hailing the barmaid, ordered a beer.

‘Dr MacLeod.’ He suddenly took note of Rhona’s evening outfit. ‘You look very nice.’