Even Tippy was amazed when she heard George actually humming while he worked. Finally, with the prostitute spreadeagled on the bed, her arms and legs stretched wide, he was happy.

This was submission. She would not fight him, she would just lie there and accept whatever he did.

Getting off the bed, he went to his coat. He took his white cotton gloves from the pocket and slipped them on. Tippy watched him, half bored already. But when she saw what he was taking out of the inside pocket of the overcoat, she felt faint with fright. It was a large knife in a leather holder. As he pulled it slowly free it caught the weak January sunshine and Tippy strained against the bonds that held her.

‘’Ere, what you doing with that?’

George walked to the bed and smiled. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you, my dear.’

Kneeling over her lower body, his belly hanging on to her knees, he began gently to cut off her panties.

Tippy was breathing heavily, her face white under the black eyeliner and heavy foundation.

Her mind was reeling. The bloke was a fucking nutter and she had let him tie her up!

‘Look, you’re not gonna hurt me, are you? Promise.’

‘I promise. Now shut up!’

George’s voice had taken on a harsh inflection. Tippy shut up.

Suddenly, the mild-mannered little man didn’t look green any more - he looked positively dangerous. Especially with that smile of his, that smile that just showed his teeth. Tippy closed her eyes tightly.

Just wait until she saw that Tony Jones. The ponce! Sending her a candidate for Broadmoor. Tippy lay back and prepared herself for the worst afternoon of her life.

‘So, sir, what do you think?’

Kenneth Caitlin lit himself a cigar, blowing the smoke out in huge puffs that swirled around his bald head.

‘From what I can see, Katie, this man is either very careful or has been very lucky. Very lucky indeed. There’s nothing at the scenes of the crimes. Nothing on the bodies, except of course as you pointed out his genetic fingerprint. There is absolutely nothing else to go on at all.’ He grinned at her. ‘This is just up my street, by Christ. I’ll find the bastard though.’ He poked his finger at her. ‘You just watch.’

Kate’s voice was sarcastic. ‘So what do you suggest we do now?’

‘Well, the uniforms are out in force looking for the Butler girl. I think she’s dead though. This man has never hidden the bodies before, has he? So obviously if he’s hidden this one, he’s playing a whole new ball game. But I’ll tell you something now, Katie. They all bugger themselves up in the end. Look at the Yorkshire Ripper.’

Kate was annoyed. Caitlin was getting on her nerves.