Calladine’s mouth pulled into a grim smile. “Don’t tell me—she was a student in Manchester, and American.”

“Got it in one. From New York actually—somewhere called Queens.”

“So now we’ve got a little more than just Alice’s theories to work with.” He picked up the phone. “I want to speak to Joanna Johnson.

This is Inspector Calladine from Leesworth Police.”

He gestured for Ruth to sit while he waited to be put through.

“You’re still looking peaky. Not coming down with something, are you?”

“No, just tired.”

“Mrs Johnson, It’s looking highly likely that someone is targeting students from the USA. I could do with you going through that list and letting me have the information today. I’d also like you to check if you had a student called Serena Hall, and if so, would you email me a photo of her as soon as you can? You might want to have a few words with the other American students and warn them to be careful. Particularly about social networking sites, and taking up with men they don’t know.”

“So this is real—something more than just Alice Bolshaw’s ramblings?”

“It is. If anything, we should all be grateful to that young woman. She’s done us a great favour by noticing what was going on.”

“I’ll get onto it straight away. I’ll commandeer some more staff to help.” She paused. “This is awful. Alice has been badgering me for weeks, and I’ve taken no notice. I’ll get back to you quickly.

Don’t worry, Inspector.”

“Seems to have shaken her up a bit. So what have we got, Ruth?”

“A serial murderer—and on our patch too by the look of things.

The body in the pile-up was one thing, but leaving the second one at the Leesworth undertakers was too much of a coincidence.”

“I think you’re right. He’s local but he’s hunting in student land.”

“I think that’s because he’s after a particular type. He wants young women from the USA who look a certain way—young women he calls Vida. And we know, because of the numbers, that there are bound to be more. But what’s he done with the rest of them, sir? Where are they being kept? Serena Hall’s been dead a while, so where’s she been? And we have to ask ourselves what’s prompted him to get rid of her now?’

“It has to be something major—something that’s forced him to change his usual method of operation.”

He rubbed his eyes. He was tired; too much to think about. His mind wouldn’t let go, so he could get no rest. It’d been a pig of a week, starting with his mother’s funeral. And now this little lot.

“You look as bad as I feel, Tom. You need a break.”

“I’ve got a lot of things rumbling around in my head. Sometimes I think I’m my own worst enemy. I really could do with being able to relax more, but the questions and theories are relentless.”

“Perhaps you need a night out—a few beers. Why don’t you ask the lads or even better, speak to Monika?”

“I’m a bloody fool, Ruth. I should never have messed things up with her. Do you think it’s too late?”

“Well, I don’t think the little fling you had with the blonde has helped. But if you’re feeling brave then why not try? Swallow your pride; mend a few fences.”

“But I was such an ass. What was I doing? That woman wasn’t much older than Zoe. What do you think—honestly?”

“I think you should try. Give it your best shot. She can only tell you to piss off. Why not do it now?”

“Do I have to?”

“Yes, I really think you do. It might make you feel better to know you’ve tried, if nothing else.”

“I’ll ring her tonight.”

“I don’t think this is something you should do over the phone either, and what’s wrong with now?”

“Too much to do, that’s what.” An email appeared in his inbox.

“This is from Mrs Johnson.”

He sent the attached photo straight to the printer. “Get the team together next door, Ruth. Let’s look at what we’ve got.” He pushed the printout over to Ruth. “Remind you of anyone?”

“Is that Serena? Because if it is, then she’s scarily like Madison.”

Ruth shuddered and took the photo from him. “I’ll pin it on the board and tell the guys.”

“Julian says he’ll have something on the latest body within twenty-four hours, sir,” Rocco told Calladine as he walked into the main office. “He says she was in soil for a while, so he’s doing an analysis. He’ll try to pinpoint where she was buried if he can.”

Good idea—if the science could be that precise.

“Right, folks.” The inspector took up his position in front of the incident board. “It looks highly likely that we’re dealing with a serial killer. The victims so far are young women who bear a striking resemblance to each other, and are from the USA. We have two victims: Madison Benneti and Serena Hall. Madison Benneti’s friend, Alice Bolshaw, drew up a list of other American students who have disappeared from the university leaving no forwarding address and giving no explanations. Serena Hall is on that list. So I’m having their addresses and phone numbers dug out as we speak, and once I get them they’ll all need checking out. I want to know the whereabouts of every person on that list. Is that clear?”

“Do we know if there have been any enquiries from the police in the States?” Imogen asked.

“No. The university isn’t aware of any.”

“Why do you reckon that is, sir? Surely if a youngster goes missing in a foreign country, there’s all sorts of investigations.”

“I think it’s down to how he chooses them. With any luck, Madison’s laptop will prove helpful. Alice told Ruth that our man found Madison on a social networking site and then started a relationship with her. I think he goes not only for a physical type, but also for women who are alone—with no nosey family in the background.”

“I’ve cracked the login password already, sir.” Imogen spoke up.

“So with a bit of luck I’ll get into her inbox quite soon.”

“Then with a little more luck we’ll have something.” Calladine paused and shook his head. “The bastard doesn’t make it clean. He keeps the girls somewhere and tortures them over time. He removes some of their teeth and stitches the mouth shut, and with Madison there was evidence of persistent rape. In fact the girl was in the early stages of pregnancy and someone had attempted an abortion.”

“Looks like he blamed someone else for her condition, then,”

Rocco suggested. “Perhaps he did those things and killed her because he believed she’d been unfaithful.”

“Nice theory, Rocco, but the dates don’t match. Given the length of time she’d been missing from college, the pregnancy must have been down to our man. We’ve got DNA, so when we get him we’ll know for sure.”

“In that case he’s got a real screw loose.”

“I think we’d all agree with that, Rocco. A gold-plated screw loose, in fact.”

DCI George Jones came into the office and stood in the doorway while Calladine spoke.

“We need to know how many more we could be looking at. We think at least another three, but we can’t be sure. I’m going to divvy up a list of phone numbers—they’re all in the States but I’m afraid they will need checking—every last one. Me and Ruth will visit the college again and get a formal statement from Alice Bolshaw. Ask her if she recalls anything else—particularly if she knew Serena Hall. Imogen—the minute you get anything from that laptop get it up on the board—photos, copies of emails—anything and everything that might help us find our man.”

He paused. They were scribbling away in their notebooks. They all realised the urgency of this. This bastard needed catching before more bodies turned up.

“Tom, a word if you’ve finished.” Jones barked the order, without so much as a glance at the others.

“Definite charisma bypass if you ask me,” Rocco whispered to Imogen. “I don’t know how the guv stands it. It should be him in that job, not DCI Charming over there.”

“Central haven’t received your statement yet, Tom. You should really get that one wrapped up quickly.”