Cerys turned to face her. Kim met her gaze. It was haunted but firm.

Her voice was low and thick as she said what everyone else around them was thinking.

‘Kim, you have got to find the bastard who did this.’

Kim nodded and exited the tent. She had every intention of doing exactly that.

Forty-Nine

‘Guv, I’ve got a message,’ Bryant said as they exited the tent. ‘Doctor Dan has something he wants us to see.’

Kim said nothing as she headed back down the hill. Bryant started the car and headed towards Russells Hall hospital. He knew when to leave her alone.

A rage was building inside her. Regardless of what they’d done, these girls had not deserved to die. That someone had felt their lives were disposable sickened her. She had been one of these girls and they had all deserved a fighting chance.

A poor start in life did not dictate the acts of the future. Kim was a testament to that fact. Her early years had promised a life of crime, drugs, suicide attempts and possibly worse. Every road sign had directed her towards destruction of life, either her own or that of others and yet she had shown two fingers to a pre-determined existence. There was nothing to suggest that her three victims would not have achieved the same.

Bryant stopped the car outside the main entrance of the hospital.

She jumped out and started walking. Bryant caught her up as she reached the bank of lifts.

‘Jeez, slow down, Guv. The rugby I can manage. Keeping pace with you is another thing entirely.’

She shook her head. ‘Come on, Grandpa, quicken up.’

Kim entered the mortuary. She could see that the bones of victim number two had been laid out on a table beside victim number one.

Although dead, Kim couldn’t help the feeling of relief that victim number one was no longer alone amongst the stark clinical coldness of the lab. If they’d been friends in life they were now together again.

Any relief she felt was short-lived as she saw a small collection of bones next to the second victim.

‘The baby?’ she asked.

Daniel nodded.

No pleasantries or greetings were offered by either of them.

Kim looked closer. The bones were so small they bore no correlation to an actual form, which Kim found all the more sad.

And it was Daniel's job to inspect these bones for clues and pretend they were not the building blocks of a baby. A scientific objectivity was required from them all. There was a need to extract the emotion from the process. But he had to dissect clues from a life that never was. It was not something she could do.

There would be no smart mouth today.

‘How old?’ she asked

‘Bones begin developing at thirteen weeks. At birth a newborn has approximately 300 bones. I’d estimate this mite to be somewhere between twenty and twenty-five weeks.’

Most definitely a person, Kim thought. Both ethically and legally. Abortions were not normally carried out after twelve weeks unless a significant risk existed to the mother.

‘Be a double murder, then, Guv; both mother and child?’

Kim nodded. Her hand was drawn to the bones. She wanted to cover them. For what reason she had no idea.

Daniel moved around the table and stood between the two girls. ‘Don’t know if it’s going to help but I have extra background on victim number one. She was around five foot four, her diet was poor and I’d say she was undernourished.’

Bryant took out his notebook.

‘Her teeth were not cared for and the lower central incisors crossed over. At some stage two fingers on her left hand had been broken and her right tibia had been fractured. These injuries were not sustained close to death.’

‘Childhood abuse?’

‘More than likely,’ he said, turning away, but not before she’d seen a deep swallow in his throat.

He turned to victim number two. ‘I don’t have the same level of detail yet on our second victim but I thought there was something you needed to know.’

He moved to the top of the table and gently moved the lower jaw of victim number one. ‘Take a close look at the inside of the teeth.’

Kim bent in closer. She could see what Daniel had noted about the lower teeth being crooked but other than having no gums or flesh attached the teeth looked relatively normal.

‘Now take a look at victim two.’

Kim turned and bent over the skull of the second female. The teeth were reasonably straight and no trauma seemed to be evident but there was something different in the colour of the overall enamel.

‘Has victim one been cleaned?’ she asked.

Daniel shook his head. ‘Neither has been cleaned.’

Kim’s tolerance for guessing games was evaporating quickly. ‘Spell it out for me, Doc.’

‘The dirt present on the teeth of victim number one would have found its way into the mouth cavity over time once the flesh had decomposed, probably five to six years after death. The dirt on the inside of the teeth of our second victim was there from the day she was put in the ground.’

Kim quickly joined the dots scattered by Daniel. There was only one way that the soil could have become fixed to the inside of the teeth so quickly.

This girl had been buried alive.

Fifty

Tracy was the first to 'run away', and there were times when I wish she hadn't. The pang of regret I felt afterwards was so surprising and unknown that I struggled to name it.

Retrospective thinking does not come naturally to a psychopath unless a plan goes wrong – and then it is only analytical, not emotional.

The world tipped slightly on its axis as I wrestled this intruder to the ground. Upon submission I understood that the regret came not from what I'd done but that I would not see her again; that I would not watch the swing of her hips as she moved around the room.

That the regret was only in correlation to what was lost to me.

The world righted itself.

Despite this, I knew Tracy was different. There are females that even as young girls stand out. They enter a room and heads turn; eyes rove. It is not to do with beauty but an inner core; a spirit that will not be broken. A resolve that ensures that the owner will achieve whatever they set their mind to.

It is attractive and arousing.

I knew that Tracy's nine-year-old body was sold for thirty-five pounds by her mother, Dina. A week later it was sold for considerably more when Dina understood the market value. Two months later, Dina retired from the business completely.

Tracy was removed by social services two days after her fourteenth birthday. She was brought to Crestwood and placed amongst other abused girls who had been beaten, raped, neglected.

She was not thankful.

She was not a victim and she had wanted to stay exactly where she was.

Having learned the hard way that she could trust no one, Tracy had been hiding earnings from Dina for two years. Tracy didn't complain about life's challenges. She simply turned them to her own advantage.

She told me all about her early life. It reminded me of a factual narration being read from a book. Maybe once or twice her voice faltered but she quickly recovered and moved on.

I listened and I nodded and I offered my support.