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‘You sure she’s in here?’

‘I’m certain of it. We need to get an idea of the lie of the land.’

‘We’re gonna need that,’ said Woods. ‘CO19 won’t go into a building at this sort of time unless they know exactly what they’re letting themselves in for. They’ll do a raid at dawn if they have the element of surprise but something like this, they’d want to wait a couple of hours at least to scope out the lay of the land. They don’t want to find themselves walking into a UK version of Waco.’

Collins nodded furiously. ‘Then there’s no time to wait for them. We can’t leave it that long. Sophie might be dead way before that. We might have to go in ourselves and get this sorted.’

Woods grabbed Collins around the arm and gripped her tightly. ‘Guv, you know I can’t let you do that. We’ve got to wait. I’m every bit as concerned about Sophie as you are, but we have to do this right.’

At that same moment the ground around them was suddenly lit up. Another car was approaching, its headlights seemingly on full beam. They ducked behind a tree and watched in horror as the vehicle drew to a halt alongside their own.

‘Shit,’ breathed Collins. ‘That could be her.’

‘If it is, she’s going to come out guns blazing. We’d better stay out of sight.’

The headlights died and the car’s engine spluttered to a stop. Collins and Woods skulked back into the shadows of a small barn and tried to make themselves as small as possible. They heard the door of the car open and the crunch of boots on the path. The footsteps started to come towards them.

Then came the sound of a voice, whispering her name. A voice that was far too familiar.

‘Stacey? Stacey, where are you?’

‘Jack?’

Stacey stood up and saw Jack Stanley walking cautiously towards the complex of buildings. She motioned for him to move quickly towards her and stay out of sight. He reached her in a few moments.

‘What the hell are you doing here?’

‘I followed you. I’ve been following you for the last hour.’

‘Why the fuck have you been doing that?’

‘Why do you think? Because of Sophie of course. I really let her down earlier today. I need to make it up to her.’

Woods was shaking his head. He was about to say something when Collins put her finger to her lip and sent him out of earshot. Once he was gone, she let rip into Jack.

‘You fucking idiot. That stunt just now, pulling up with your lights on and engine roaring – you’ve probably woken up ever fucker in a ten-mile radius, all because you want to play Rambo. You’re a fucking idiot.

‘This is what I do, Jack. This is my job. For once in your life you need to take a back seat and let me get on with things.’

‘What, you and him?’ He jerked a thumb in the general direction of Woods. ‘Neither of you would last more than ten minutes in my firm and you know it. You’ve got the law on your side and all that bollocks, but I’m staying put because Sophie needs me and this is where I have to be.’

Collins shook her head again. ‘Are you going to make me arrest you?’

‘With what army? You don’t have any cuffs on you. You never do. And I’m sure pretty boy doesn’t have any either. Besides, I could flatten him with one hand behind my back. I know you haven’t got any back-up coming. I know there isn’t time. So just make the most of it – let’s go and rescue our daughter as soon as we can. Which building do you think she’s in?’

Collins sighed deeply, then lifted a finger and pointed towards a solid brick building at the far end of the complex.

Jessica Matthews was almost breathless with excitement as she moved out of the cold-storage area into the main room of the disused abattoir.

She had killed so many times, but this was going to be completely different. Completely new. Here was someone who had committed no sin, who had no evil inside them. This was the very definition of innocence. This death would be the most exquisite of all. The thrill would last a lifetime.

She moved towards the stainless-steel table where the body of the girl lay, her heels click-clacking against the tiles. Sophie Collins’s eyes were wide open and her face was frozen in a grimace of terror. Matthews knew she could see her; she knew by now exactly where to stand in order to ensure her victims could see her perfectly, and she moved to that position now.

‘Hello, Sophie. I must say, it’s very nice to meet you at last. Your mum has told me so much about you. You’re not quite what I expected. I thought you’d be a little taller, and for some reason in my mind’s eye you were a bit chunky, you know, puppy fat. I don’t know why. I was a little bit like that when I was your age so maybe I imagine all other girls are.’

Matthews walked slowly around the table, taking in every inch of Sophie’s form, almost the way she did when she was carrying out an autopsy. ‘It might not seem important, but it is to me. I want to be able to picture you in my mind in the future, so I need to see you as you really are.’

She moved to a side table, where the shiny silver instruments she would be using were waiting on a tray lined with dark green paper. There was an enterotome, a skull chisel, rib cutters and a set of toothed forceps. She picked up a scalpel, then moved back to the table. She held it up level with her head, and, for a brief moment, thought she saw Sophie shudder. She moved back to the table and checked the flow of the paralysing agent. It was fine. Occasional muscle tremors were a known side effect. There was nothing to worry about.

She moved back to where Sophie lay and stood over her, desperately trying to control her breathing. ‘My God,’ she gasped. ‘I’m so excited. I’d better calm down. This next part is a bit delicate and, believe me, you really don’t want me to mess it up. Not at all.’

She lowered the scalpel and, starting just below the base of Sophie’s neck, began to cut away the material of her t-shirt, exposing her naked flesh.

‘You’ve got lovely skin, Sophie,’ she said admiringly. ‘It’s so frustrating, no matter what you do to try to look after it, it wrinkles up like a prune. All the elasticity goes. It’s tragic really. Of course, that’s not something you’re going to have to worry about. You lucky thing. You lucky, lucky thing.’

Deep inside her head, Sophie Collins was screaming as loudly as she could. It was almost deafening. She knew that no sound was coming out but she was convinced that if she could just scream loud enough that perhaps something would give.

It was all she could do; it was her only option. Every other chance of escape had gone. It was as if she were trapped underwater or frozen in a block of ice. She was completely immobilized and this crazy woman was going to do whatever she wanted to her.

When the woman had lowered the scalpel, Sophie had felt the pressure on her chest and was convinced that she was about to be cut open. It was only when she felt the cold air on her tummy that she knew it was her clothes that had been cut. Her relief was short lived. What was about to happen was inevitable.

All she could think about was … not her mother, not her grandparents, but her father. Seeing him collapse on the grass, hand clutched to his chest in agony … all she could think about was that he was somehow being taken away from her. She had felt as though her whole world was collapsing around her. Now, more than anything, she wanted him to be here. She wanted to know that he was all right. She wanted to see him one last time.

Jessica Matthews finished lining up the last of the instruments she planned to use for the living autopsy, an antique bone saw that held real sentimental value. It was the saw she had used on James Gilbert and on every killing she had committed since.

Almost no one used hand saws any more. They were considered slow and cumbersome. A vibrating saw was much faster and far more efficient, but Jessica liked the tactile sensation of knowing whether she was cutting through bone or flesh or sinew. The vibrating saw made them all feel the same. The hand saw let her experience each different texture in a way that was simply without comparison.