He was smart. He would manage to come up with another ruse to trap his victims. He might even wait a while after the next one. Let the fuss die down, let them all forget that they could be on his list. It was going to be OK.

Now all he needed was for the river to subside.

Tadeusz had been right. Even in the small town just off the motorway junction, it was possible to gain access to cyberspace. It didn’t actually run to an internet café, but a local newsagent had been enterprising enough to turn over part of his shop to what was proudly labelled the Net Zone. It consisted of three tables, each with a PC, and a Coke machine. Naturally, all three machines were occupied. Two teenage boys and an elderly woman stared fixedly at the screens.

Krasic snorted in exasperation. ‘Shit,’ he muttered through clenched teeth.

‘Behave, Darko,’ Tadeusz said tightly. He stepped forward and cleared his throat. ‘I have a hundred marks for the first person to show they have the hospitality to give up their terminal to the stranger in town.’

The woman glanced up and giggled. The two youths looked at each other, confused. Then one jumped to his feet. ‘For a hundred marks, it’s all yours.’

Tadeusz took a couple of notes from his wallet and waved Krasic to the seat. ‘Let’s do it.’ He leaned over the Serb’s shoulder, gazing intently at the screen.

Krasic typed in the url for the free mail site. As he input what Hansi had told him to, the shopkeeper appeared in front of them. ‘You need to pay for your time on the machine.’

‘Fine,’ Tadeusz said, waving another fifty-mark note at him. ‘Keep the change. Now leave us alone.’

‘Nothing like drawing attention to yourself,’ Krasic muttered as he waited for the system to let him in.

‘Like they know who we are. Come on, Darko, get this stuff on the screen.’

Krasic opened the mailbox and clicked on the promised message from Hansi. There were half a dozen file attachments and he went straight to the first one. It contained the basic details of Tony’s life, from his university degree to his present post. ‘Reader in psychology?’ Krasic said. ‘They give you a job just for being able to read?’

‘It’s a rank. Like professor, only not so senior,’ Tadeusz said impatiently. ‘Never mind that. What’s all this stuff about consultant to the Home Office on offender profiling? This guy’s a profiler?’

‘Looks like he used to be, anyway.’

‘Which means he works with cops,’ Tadeusz said heavily. ‘Carry on, Darko.’