Sarah stared out her car windscreen at the stray dog ambling past, his black fur slick with rain. There were lots of them in Lower Slayton. They usually came out in the early hours, when the roads were quiet, but tonight the streets outside Elsie’s mid-terraced home were devoid of people, apart from some police community support officers on patrol. People’s perceptions had altered, and there was a collective anger brewing as they placed their children on curfew. It was almost a week since Angelica disappeared. A lot was going on behind the scenes, and teams of officers were working hard to track down the killer dubbed the Midnight Man. But locals’ tempers were fraying. It wasn’t helped by the media, who splashed headlines such as Midnight Man Terrorises Slayton across their front pages. The story started in the Slayton Gazette as details of the game were leaked to the press. Word spread on social media under #TheMidnightMan before being picked up by the nationals. It had been met with a macabre fascination, featuring on YouTube true crime channels to KCOM News. Most adults in Slayton hadn’t heard of the game until now, much less understood it. Tales of the pagan ritual were interspersed with segments about Blackhall Manor’s dark past. The daily reminders of Sarah’s history made her scar itch. Heaven forbid they find out who she was – they would have a field day. Not to mention the fact she was assigned to the crime.

If only she’d been able to interview Isobel and Bethany, she could have uncovered more. But by the time she’d got to their house, the twins had been whisked away to Ireland to stay with relatives. ‘It’s the safest place for them,’ their father had insisted, while stating they had nothing to do with Angelica’s murder. Talk about contradicting himself, Sarah thought. If they had nothing to do with the Midnight Game, why had they been taken to Ireland? It was obvious the family were scared half to death. She was glad the twins were safe, but it was a frustrating end to a fruitless shift.