There was a creak as a door opened somewhere outside. Then a few moments later the door to the storeroom opened. This is it, thought Bailey, feeling a stomach-churning fear. The moment of reckoning.

Archie stood motionless in the doorway for a few moments, surveying the room through his insect-like black sunglasses. She observed him tensely, noticing that he was clutching a leather holdall by his side.

Without saying anything, he walked over to a small table on one side of the room. He placed the bag on the table. It made an ominous clank.

‘Did you have a nice little chat?’ he said, glancing over his shoulder at her.

She said nothing, eyeing the bag with concern.

He shrugged and turned back to the table. He unzipped the bag and began to take out a variety of items, laying them out methodically on the tabletop.

‘I said I might show you my knife collection one day. Well, here it is. Not all of them, of course. I’ve got way too many for that. Just some of my choice favourites, as well as a few other tools of the trade.’

The knives and tools clinked as he arranged them neatly side-by-side on the table.

Craning her head, Bailey could make out some kind of dagger, a meat cleaver, a bone saw and a pair of pliers amongst other things. And he was still taking stuff out of the bag.

‘I used to work as an apprentice in a butcher’s shop,’ he said, without turning around. ‘I got to be quite an expert at the art of dismemberment. Cutting a carcass down into its constituent joints of meat. Once you’ve taken apart a pig, a sheep, a cow, humans are easy. And I’ve done a fair few of them. I’ve got the whole process down to forty-five minutes, start to finish.’

‘Well, I guess you’ve got to have transferable skills in today’s job market,’ said Bailey conversationally, attempting to keep her voice level. The more she engaged him and the more he talked, the more time she had to try and figure a way out of here.

‘Indeed,’ he said, turning around to face her. ‘Obviously, the reason I’m going to cut you up is to make your body easier to dispose of.’

‘Of course,’ she nodded agreeably. ‘That makes perfect sense.’

He scrutinised her mutely through his black sunglasses and she wondered if she’d overdone it.

‘Before I cut you up though, I’m going to have to kill you. I’ll be cutting your throat. Ear to ear. You’ll be all done and bled out in less than three minutes. I can’t say it won’t hurt, but it is my favoured method. Legacy of working in the meat industry, I suppose.’

He picked up the meat cleaver and the bone saw and held them up for her to see.

‘After you’re dead, I’ll use these to take off your head, then all four of your limbs. I’ll have to chop up your torso a bit, as that’s always the most challenging part to dispose of.’