Gilly was easy to talk to, and after the lying thieves and thugs he usually interacted with, her open and easy-going conversation was a rare treat. She seemed so straightforward. They had met several times at his friend John’s house, and had gone out together twice — once for a drink in her local pub, the second time to a restaurant in Saltern town. He was already looking forward to another meeting but didn’t want to seem pushy. He dared not expect too much.

‘Look, Gary, I don’t know how you’re fixed for the weekend, but it’s Nancy and John’s wedding anniversary. They wondered if you would join us at the Old Talbot Inn for a meal on Saturday evening?’

Gilly had sounded casual, but was that a hint of hopeful expectancy in her voice?

‘As long as the investigation doesn’t get too intense, I’d love to,’ he said.

‘Wonderful! I’ll ring and tell them later.’

After another ten minutes or so, Gilly said she’d better say goodnight as she had a couple of other calls to make.

Gary felt like a love-struck teenager, reluctant to be the first to hang up. When, after several final goodbyes, they finally ended the call, he sat for a while with his eyes closed. This woman seemed to understand the importance of his work and accept that arrangements might be cancelled at the last minute. Like him, Gilly had never been married before, but he sensed that somewhere in her past there had been heartbreak. So they had that, too, in common. Maybe they could make it work.

* * *

As darkness fell, not everyone was bidding a tender farewell to a new love. Although this was about love, wasn’t it? A love more powerful than a sweet boy-girl romance. This love would last for eternity.

Hidden in the shadows of a derelict summerhouse, he watched. Here, there were no open windows enticing him to come inside. Every curtain was tightly pulled. There was a forbidding atmosphere to the old property. He was not welcome here. Something about this building just did not feel right. The house he had so carefully selected for tonight’s sortie felt more like a baited trap. Well, it didn’t have to be tonight, did it? He’d waited so long for this, it would be foolish to spoil it all through mere impatience.

He turned and slipped away.

* * *

It was one thirty in the morning, and a kid called Baz sat in a petrol station kiosk, waiting for the weirdo on the forecourt to bugger off. He wanted to go home. He’d locked all the doors and was praying that someone, preferably a beefy six-foot-tall lorry driver, would pull in for fuel.

The guy must be stoned, Baz decided. He was on something a lot stronger than booze, anyway. Now he was sitting on the kerb by the diesel pumps, muttering to himself.