‘Only the first victim was known to us, and he had no convictions, never been charged because of lack of evidence. The methods are mixed, arson, asphyxiation, poisoning, hanging, stabbing, exposure. Initial enquiries have furthermore found no connections between the victims. Although the uber driver, Challis, does have a connection to a missing person, his daughter, who was found dead last summer.’

  ‘That’s probably just a coincidence, but have you reviewed the case file?’ Chambers typed some more notes before noticing that West had not answered. She looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. ‘Well?’

  ‘Well, yes I have reviewed the file. The daughter was killed and dressed to look like another missing woman, Jessica Manners.’ West bit his lower lip before continuing. ‘Do you remember that case?’

  ‘Of course, I do Steve. But there are no other connections, between that case and the other victims?’

  ‘Other than an unsubstantiated link between Carl Phillips and the uber driver’s daughter, no, nothing that we have uncovered yet.’

  ‘And you’ve mapped these scenes of course, any patterns there?’

  ‘No, only that the cases all occurred relatively close together. The team are continuing to pool information. We have a meeting at one that you are welcome to join.’

  ‘Possibly, I’ll try to come downstairs for that….’ Chambers caught West’s eye and saw his glance towards Johnson.

  ‘Ah, yes, Greg. Before you go, I just wanted to be the first to congratulate you.’

  ‘Ma’am?’

  ‘I’ve received approval for your permanent transfer to DI West’s team. And can confirm your promotion to Detective Sergeant at the same time. Well done DS Johnson, that will be all gentlemen.’

  15th January

  ‘Oh my god, I’m so sorry to hear that Mrs Repetski. Melanie was so lovely, and, I know it is a cliché, but she was so full of life when I saw her for our last session. I cannot begin to imagine how you and your husband are feeling. Please, please accept my condolences, and if there is anything I can do, please do get in touch. Take care of yourselves.’ Elizabeth rocked back in her chair as she ended the call and turned to look out of her window. The day was grey, the sky a washed-out denim that threatened further rain and that had become a permanent fixture since the start of the new year.

  Elizabeth had been catching up on paperwork when her landline had rung, and she had answered in a brusque manner borne out of impatience at having wasted an hour waiting for a patient who had not turned up for their appointment. She quickly moderated her voice when the caller had broken into tears as she explained that she was the mother of Melanie Repetski, the patient in question, and went on to say that her daughter had died just before the weekend. Elizabeth had been stunned into silence when the woman had sobbed through a brief account of what had happened, that her 25-year-old daughter, her only child, had been found dead in her terrace house, hanging from the kitchen ceiling, but that the police suspected foul play.

  Elizabeth massaged her temples and then ran a hand down her cheek, surprised to find her fingers were wet with tears she had not realised had been falling. A knock on her office door broke the silence and she quickly wiped her face before turning back towards the room. ‘Come in.’ Elizabeth cleared her throat and sat straighter in her chair as the door opened.

  ‘Doctor Byfield, sorry to disturb you, but James…I mean Doctor Booker, he wants to know whether you’re going to join him in the lab, to go over the latest results. Are you OK?’ The 21-year-old research assistant, Emily, blushed as she mentioned Elizabeth’s colleague’s name.

  ‘Yes, I just received some distressing news, but I am OK, thank you Emily. I’ll be right there.’ Elizabeth smiled faintly at the woman, at the same time wondering how bad her face must have looked from the tears that had been flowing moments before. ‘At least I’m not wearing mascara.’ She murmured as she stood and crossed the room.

  Emily had already turned to leave the office, her blond ponytail bouncing as she walked away.

  ‘Did you forget we were doing this?’ Booker glared at Elizabeth in irritation.

  ‘No, I didn’t forget, I just had to take an unexpected phone call from a patient’s mother, you know Melanie Repetski?’ James nodded, impatiently. ‘Well, she was a DNA this morning. And, and well it turns out that she killed herself at the end of last week.’

  An audible gasp behind Elizabeth caused her to spin in surprise, before realising that Emily had also entered the lab.

  ‘God, Lizzy, I had no idea, of course how could I. Are you OK?’ James lent over and placed a hand on Elizabeth’s shoulder. ‘Stupid question.’

  ‘Yes, no; I’m not OK, I’m completely floored to be honest. I saw her the week before last and genuinely had no idea that she was doing so badly. It is completely out of character.’ Elizabeth swallowed, feeling like she had something stuck in her throat. Then she remembered something her patient’s mother had said. ‘Apparently the police are involved, they always are in cases of suicide of course, and they are not saying much but have told her that there are suspicious circumstances.’

  James’ eyes widened ‘Suspicious as in murder? Not another one.’ He pinched his nose and Elizabeth had the distinct impression he was holding back tears. She hurried on.

  ‘Yes, I guess that must be what they mean, or at least that another person was present or involved in some way. Melanie was found hanged in her own home.’ Now Elizabeth reached out a hand to James. ‘How are you doing today? I know that’s a daft question too, but there’s no other way to ask really.’ James started to speak but then paused, clearly flustered.

  Elizabeth turned to Emily, ‘I know it’s not your job, but could you go and grab us all a drink? My treat, here.’ She handed over her debit card. ‘I’ll have a latte, James?’

  ‘Same, thanks Emily.’

  The younger woman nodded, her mouth curled in a look of confusion. ‘Um, sure. You could have just asked me to give you a bit of privacy though.’

  Elizabeth’s face coloured, ‘Yes, I guess I could have, but I also really need a coffee.’

  She turned to James once the door had closed behind Emily. ‘I know we haven’t spoken much since Jenny died, but I know you were,’ she paused, unsure what word to use after the reaction James had had in their office, ‘much closer than I had realised. Do you want to talk about it?’

  ‘Um, thanks Liz…. Elizabeth. Yes, we were very much together, I really think I was in love with her.’ His eyes softened as he slipped into a state of reverie. ‘I just keep thinking how I was with her the night before she died. And that she’d gone home early, coz she was working the next day, and then she turned up dead, here, in a fucking hospital in broad daylight.’ He dug his fingernails of his left hand into the flesh on the back of his right hand.

  ‘I know there’s evidence, the syringe, and stuff, but I still believe, one hundred percent that there is no way on earth she would have killed herself. There must be some sicko out there, offing people and trying to make it look like suicide.’ He turned back to the desk, suddenly extremely interested in the papers laid out across it, his shoulders rising and falling as he tried to regain his composure.

  Elizabeth didn’t speak for a few moments, pointedly looking at her phone in order to give her colleague some time. ‘I hadn’t considered there might be a connection, but now you mention it of course it’s possible. Both young women, both living in close proximity.’ She sat down next to him. ‘Look, Emily will be back soon. Are you OK to just carry on looking at the results of the tests for now? Then maybe we can grab a drink after work and talk some more?’

  James nodded and blew air out, ‘I’d like that, thanks, I’d like that a lot.’

  ****

  Elizabeth and James entered the crowded bar together, weaving between people as they headed to a booth in the back corner of the room. ‘I’ll go get the first round in, what’s your poison?’ James smiled as he stripped off his coat and hung it next to the table.

  ‘G & T thanks, but I’ll probably only be able to stay for one, I’m going around to see Michael and Jess later.’ James pouted as Elizabeth shrugged. ‘I don’t have to leave for an hour or so though. So maybe time for another round?’

  Five minutes later James returned with their drinks and a couple of bags of crisps. ‘So, what do you think of our latest brainiac, Emily?’ He asked as he slid into the booth.

  ‘Um, she’s fine, earnest, as they always are, but she seems to have been paying attention at university and doesn’t seem as entitled as the ones that come in and expect us to train them up purely so they can get a place on a Clin Psych course. So, yes, I like her. You?’

  ‘Yeah, that seems a fair assessment. She’s engaged you know?’

  Well, thought Elizabeth, irrelevant unless you run your life considering whether you might want to date anyone you meet. ‘Of course, you’d know that.’ She blushed. ‘Sorry that wasn’t very kind.’

  ‘It’s a fair observation though, based on my history.’ James trailed a finger through a puddle of beer on the table. ‘Are you going to the funeral? It’s tomorrow.’ He glanced up across his pint of beer as he spoke, a look of pleading in his eyes.

  ‘Jenny’s funeral? God, yes, of course I’ll be there. I didn’t know her particularly well, but we worked together for six months; do you want to travel together?’ She turned as someone called her name, rolling her eyes as she recognised Emily negotiating the room towards their table.

  ‘Yes, actually wait, are you coming by yourself or….?’ James frowned as he waited for a reply.

  ‘I was planning to go with Michael, he met Jenny a couple of times when he came in for appointments, and more recently when he picked me up.’ They both grimaced as they recalled the awkward encounter. ‘And, well he wanted to be with me, you know to offer moral support. You’re welcome to join us though and travel together. Hi Emily, how are you?’

  ‘Hello Emily, care to join us? I think Elizabeth’s about to go?’ James stood and forced some levity into his voice as he greeted their assistant. Emily looked between her two supervisors, bemused by the tension in the air.

  Elizabeth shook her head, flustered. ‘Um, yes, I’m heading off soon. Shall I pick you up tomorrow then James?’

  ‘No, its OK, I wouldn’t want to put you out. I’ll just see you at the church.’ He turned his attention to Emily.

  ****

  Elisabeth shook out her umbrella as she waited on the doorstep, huddled as far under the porch as she could. She kept replaying the conversation she’d had with James in the pub, feeling a mix of guilt and anger at how he’d responded when she’d told him her boyfriend would be accompanying her to the funeral of their late colleague. James had moved quickly from being vulnerable and needy to being wounded to finally dismissing Elizabeth whilst she was still offering to go with him. His body language, as he literally turned his back on her, and the fact that he leapt into conversation with Emily made it abundantly clear that Elizabeth’s presence was no longer welcome. She sighed, glancing back into the night, relieved to be out of the rain, more relieved to be away from the awkward interaction at the pub.

  The front door opened after a minute or two and Elizabeth smiled widely as Jess stood in front of her. ‘Hi BB, come on in out of the rain, how was your day?’

  Elizabeth quickly stepped into the hallway and took another step past her host so Jess could close the door, then she gave the woman a hug, squeezing tightly and resting her head against the other’s. ‘My day was shit to be honest Jess, so man am I glad to see you.’

  Jess squeezed back and they embraced for a beat before stepping apart. ‘Come upstairs and tell us all about it, Michael’s cooking something that smells interesting, but it’s at a critical stage so he couldn’t leave the kitchen.’ Jess skipped across the tiled hallway and up the narrow staircase. She called back as she moved, ‘So make sure you’re impressed whatever it tastes like.’

  Elizabeth smiled to herself as she followed Jess up to the first floor of the townhouse.

  Jess had already loudly announced her presence when she’d entered the room and Michael was halfway to the doorway to meet Elizabeth as she emerged from the stairwell. ‘Hi, hun, how are you doing?’ The greeting was so genuine, the look of kindness in Michael’s dark blue eyes so clear that Elizabeth almost broke down in tears on the spot as a wave of emotions threatened to overwhelm her. Instead she bit her lip and shook her head, reaching out to hold Michael’s hands.

  ‘Its not been a great day to be honest, but can I tell you after we’ve eaten?’

  Michael nodded and pulled her into a hug. ‘Of course, the food’s nearly ready anyway.’

  ‘He’s been super sketchy about it too BB, I’m not sure he even knows what he’s cooked this time.’ Jess bounced on the balls of her feet as she regarded Michael and Elizabeth. ‘Enough with the hugs now, let him serve it up.’

  ‘Fine, go, sit.’ Michael shooed the women to the table and then joined them carrying a large saucepan and three soup bowls. ‘So, try not to be put off by the fairly pungent aroma, or the look of the dish….’ He served out three portions of the steaming liquid. ‘It’s a family recipe that I got from Uncle Mac, a version of minestrone soup.’ He left the table again, returning a moment later with a basket of freshly baked rolls.

  Elizabeth and Jess were silent for a few minutes as they sampled the soup and tore apart the bread. ‘So?’ Michael looked between the two, impatiently waiting for a verdict.

  Elizabeth swallowed before she answered. ‘It’s delicious, and I rarely say that about soup.’

  ‘Yeah, it’s absolute yum, and this is far and away the best gluten-free bread I’ve tasted, though admittedly the bar is low. That new recipe book was definitely an inspired Christmas present…for me!’ Jess ripped off another hunk of bread, dipping it in the soup and taking a large bite to emphasis her point. ‘I’m so relieved you don’t have a proper nine to five job, although given the recent murders perhaps you should be out making use of your “special skills”.’ Jess made air quotes, bread in one hand, spoon in the other as she said, “special skills”, earning a dark look from her brother. ‘What?’ she gave a cartoon-like shrug.

  ‘I’m glad you both like it but seeing as I don’t need to earn a living and work mostly as a hobby and to keep my brain active, I think I will stick to cooking. Thank you. Especially given that any “special skills” I possess are at best a parlour trick and at worst could end with me in jail.’ Michael turned his attention back to his own bowl, leaving Jess blushing and mumbling an apology.

  ‘How was your day Jess?’ Elizabeth tried to lighten the mood. ‘Did you get much done with Mr Clatterpans here cooking up a storm?’

  ‘I did get loads done actually, thank you so much for asking. I took a very, very deep dive into brutalist architecture today – from the Smithsons, here in the UK, to the Robarts Library, in Toronto - and I could probably bore you to tears for the next several hours. Or, you could tell us what happened to you today?’ Jess leaned across the table and put a hand on Elizabeth’s as she spoke. ‘It looks like you’re the one who needs a little therapy right now.’

  Elizabeth nodded and looked away briefly. ‘Well, yes I think you’re right.’ She drew in a deep breath. ‘So, I had a DNA this morning and, well it turns out that the patient died suddenly, and violently, before the weekend. And the police think there may have been foul play.’

  Jess’ eyes widened and she mouthed a stronger swear word than the one that emerged from her mouth. ‘Crap, that really sucks. There is so much death and darkness at the moment. Gillian, Jenny, this patient of yours…’ Jess jumped out of her seat and quickly circled the table to throw her arms around Elizabeth’s neck.

  ‘There’s been something on the news this evening.’ Michael watched his girlfriend closely as he spoke. ‘A local woman in her twenties, Melanie something, found dead at her home. The report said it was a suspected suicide though. Is that your patient?’

  Elizabeth pushed her bowl away half full and leaned back against Jess. ‘Melanie Repetski, yes it must be her.’ She shivered and Jess released her, ‘The next of kin, her mother, told me the police had found her hanging from the ceiling in her kitchen, but as I say there is talk of it being more complicated a picture.’ She rose from the table and headed across to the window, opening the blind a little to look out over the town. ‘I’m sorry Michael, you went to so much trouble to make the soup. It is lovely, but honestly, I just can’t stomach it. Between Melanie, and with Jenny’s funeral tomorrow, food is the furthest thing from my mind.’ She smiled, a watery grin visible in the reflection from the window.

  ‘Hey, don’t apologise. The death of two people in your life so close together, and in violent circumstances, well, if you weren’t affected by that I would be worried about you.’ Michael stood as he spoke, then turned to his sister, ‘Jess, do you want to head to the lounge and put the fire on, I’ll bring dessert in case anyone fancies it, we’ll be down in a couple of minutes.’ Jess nodded and left the room with a glance backwards at Elizabeth, a look of concern on her face.

  Michael rounded the table and joined Elizabeth at the window, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin gently against her head. ‘Do you want to just head to bed?’

  Elizabeth’s body shook as she laughed. ‘I’m not really in the mood Michael, plus you just told Jess you’d only be a couple of minutes….’

  ‘Not like that, you know I didn’t mean that. But you’ve had a hard day, and the funeral is in the morning, I can run you back to your flat if you want, or of course you can just crash here.’

  ‘I know, I’m winding you up. But no, I can stay up for a bit, and I definitely want to sleep here, I do not fancy spending the night by myself.’

  She felt Michael’s body relax. ‘Good, I don’t want you to be alone either.’ Michael was about to move to pick up the mousses he’d made for dessert when he suddenly remembered something else from the news. ‘I know its more crappy news, but you’ll see it on the television or in the papers, so I may as well tell you.’ Elizabeth turned to face him, biting her lip. ‘There was another murder last week too, again here in Reading. Not much information has been released, but it was an older man, in his eighties I think, and this one was definitely a murder.’