He loved her so much.

Nancy lay beside Jed listening to the boy’s sobs, and smiled. George was all she had and no one left her. At least, not until she was finished with them.

She slept. Jed turned over and broke wind loudly, sleeping contentedly, unaware that after his conversation with George, his days were numbered.

George awoke to a cooked breakfast and bussed it to work on a full stomach. In his half-hour lunch break he bought himself some new shoes. He went home on the bus to a cooked dinner.

Nancy made a big fuss of him. It wasn’t until later in the evening he found out Jed had gone. If he had been a more worldly boy he might have realised what she was doing. Instead, as usual, he was grateful for the respite in her baiting of him.

The events of the night before were forced from his mind. Until the next time.

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty

Chief Constable Frederick Flowers was sitting in his office reading the latest reports on the Grantley Ripper. He was not happy with what he saw. It was the beginning of February and so far the man had got away with four murders. All murders were newsworthy, he conceded that, but sex murders like these seemed to grab the public interest and the daily papers made the most of this fact. His calls were now being screened because both the Sun and the Star were after something to pin on the police force. Flowers sat back in his seat.

After twenty-two years on the force he had seen many changes. He could remember when the police were respected, admired and feared - yes, feared. Now, if you grabbed a suspect by the arm the chances were his MP would shout out from the House of Commons: ‘Police brutality’. Then, when something like this happened, everyone expected an arrest within twenty-four hours.

He frowned. If they did catch the man, the bleeding hearts would get him. By the time the psychologists and the social workers and every tin pot liberal with a BSc after their name had finished, the man would be found to be unfit to stand trial and would be put away in Broadmoor with a better style of living than he had ever been accustomed to. He had seen it too many times before. At the moment though, the papers and the public were after his blood, so Chummy had to be caught - and quick.

Flowers picked up the reports again, but his heart wasn’t really in them. He had wanted to play golf today, like he did every Wednesday, but that was a no-no. All he needed was a picture of him on the course during a major investigation and the papers would finish him overnight. He was so deep in thought when his secretary buzzed him, he actually jumped in his seat.

He pressed the button on his intercom.

‘What?’