I’ll get on with that. I’ll take one of the uniform boys with me. You go and have a word with Vida Alton—see what she has to say about her husband and his movements, and that trouble she had.”

* * *

Calladine took the path that led from the garden centre to the nursery, beckoning one of the uniformed officers to join him. Once again the gate was unlocked, and Calladine spotted the white van parked on the tarmac by the main entrance. As they walked he rang the office and spoke to Imogen.

“I know you checked Alton out and everything was okay, but we were looking at something else then—the Cassie Rigby case. Can you find out for me exactly where he was on the morning of the pile-up on the bypass.”

Today there were at least three people working on the land, and one of them was James Alton. As he saw them approach he threw his spade to the ground in annoyance and made towards them.

“Whatever it is, I’m busy.” He brushed his dirty palms down the sides of his overalls. “I can’t help with the child so you’re wasting your time.”

“You are Mr James Alton?” Calladine asked, showing the man his warrant card.

“What of it? What do you want now? You’ve no right coming in here, wasting my time.”

“I’d like a quick look at your van for a start, sir.”

The man shrugged and led them across.

“It’s a workhorse, this van. I transport plants around in it, so I don’t know what you expect to find.”

He swung open the back doors and then the passenger door.

Calladine looked in the back. It smelled, and not of roses.

“It smells a bit off to me.” The unmistakable pungent aroma of death hit him in the face.

“I don’t know what that is. It’s been like that since the other morning.”

“Don’t let anyone near this vehicle,” Calladine told the constable.

“Mr Alton, I’d like you to come down to the station and answer a few questions.”

“Like I’ve already told you, I’m too busy.”

“It’s in your interests to come voluntarily, but if you won’t then I’ll have no option but to arrest you.”

“This is harassment. What is it I’m supposed to have done?”

“We’re investigating the murder of a number of young women, Mr Alton.”

The man’s face went ashen. Guilt or shock, Calladine couldn’t tell.

“Look—a motoring offence I could understand, but this …

there’s no way I’m involved in murder; no way.” At a nod from Calladine the young constable led James Alton to the police car parked back at the garden centre. Once they were out of earshot he rang Julian Batho.

“I’ve got a white van I’d like your people to look at. It’s parked at the nursery beside the garden centre. It smells of death to me.

Also—would you take some soil samples and see if they match the one you got from Serena’s body?”

Calladine left a couple of uniformed officers at the garden centre while he took Alton in for questioning.

“Keep an eye out. Watch the nursery staff and, until you hear from me, don’t let anyone leave. The search party should arrive soon.”

* * *

The Altons lived in some style in a modernised farmhouse on a hill above the nursery. The gardens were large and well-tended and there was a new Mercedes sports car sitting in the drive. The plant business must pay well, thought Ruth, as she parked near the gates and walked up to the front door.

She rang the bell and waited. She could hear music, and the sound of people talking and laughing. Finally a woman answered.

“Mrs Alton?” Ruth showed her warrant card. “Vida Alton?”

The woman nodded and Ruth smiled with relief. So Vida was real

—she wasn’t dead like they’d feared, or a figment of some nutter’s imagination. She was a real flesh-and-blood woman. Ruth could hardly believe they’d actually found her—but what did it mean for the case?

“I’m Sergeant Ruth Bayliss from Leesworth Police. Can I have a word?”

With a look of bewilderment on her face, the woman stood aside so that Ruth could go in.

“What’s this about? Is it Jimmy? Is he okay?”

“Yes, he’s fine.”

Vida Alton had an American accent, and she was the right physical build too. She looked similar to the others, with fine features and long fair hair. Whatever was going on, this had to be the right ‘Vida.’

“Mrs Alton we’ve been looking for you for days now. At first we didn’t understand that ‘Vida’ was actually a woman’s name. When we did realise, we then had to consider whether or not some sort of harm had befallen you.”

Vida Alton shook her head, confused.

“Look—is everything okay?” I believe someone’s been bothering you lately? You received some strange text messages and they upset you. Did you keep them by any chance?’

“No, it was nothing, honestly—just someone playing a joke.

Well that’s what Jimmy said, so I deleted them all.”

“There were a few then—when did they start?”

“Just under a year ago—early last spring.” She led the way into the kitchen, where she was entertaining some friends. It was a huge room, beautifully fitted out and full of high-end equipment.

Three women were sitting around a table, drinking coffee. They nodded at Ruth.

“Want some?”

“No, thanks. Was that all there was—the texts? Are you sure you can’t think of anything else, anything odd that’s upset you recently?”

“Why would anyone bother me? No one would dare, not with Jimmy looking out for me.”

“You’re from the States, aren’t you? Can I ask how you and your husband met?”

“I went into the nursery one day to buy some plants—simple as that. I liked the place—I liked Jimmy at once, and I thought he had a good thing going, so I invested. That was several years ago now. And yes—before you ask we’re very happily married. What’s this all about? Is Jimmy in some sort of trouble?”

“We’re not sure yet. I can’t really tell you very much, I’m afraid.

But I will tell you this: a number of young women have been murdered locally, and each of the bodies we’ve found so far, had your name written on an item they were wearing. Another young woman was found collapsed this morning near the garden centre and she was wearing a tracksuit with the name ‘Vida’ embroidered on the top.”

“I lost one of my suits about a year ago,” exclaimed the woman in surprise. “I left my sports bag in the car on the drive while I brought in the groceries, and when I went out for it, the thing had gone.”

“Was there anything else in the bag?”

“No. I’d been working out at the gym, so just the suit.”

“And you’re sure that you have no other concerns? We can talk privately.” Ruth was aware of the curious stares of the other women.

“I promise you, I’m fine. Go spend your time looking out for those who need you. I’ve got Jimmy.”

“Tell her about the cat, Vida,” one of the women called out.

“That was nothing. Well not nothing, but nothing sinister I’m sure.”

“Well I think you’re totally wrong there, Vida. I told you at the time to tell the police, didn’t I? I mean it was weird what happened, and not natural.”

The woman looked at Ruth, clearly wanting to get something off her chest. “Someone killed her cat. But they didn’t just kill it, they left it mutilated and in agony on her doorstep. What sort of creep does that?”

“What do you mean by mutilated?”

“The thing had no teeth and its mouth had been sewn up. Now in my book that means someone has a problem.”

First the cat and then the girls. It looked like Vida had had a narrow escape. If James Alton was their man, then she was safe.

But if he wasn’t? Ruth decided she needed to have this woman watched.

“Has there been anything else?”

Vida shook her head vigorously. The memory of the cat had made her cry. “It’ll have been kids,” she sobbed. “I don’t like to talk about it. The whole thing is too horrible to think about.”

“Okay, Mrs Alton. I’ve finished for now, but I’m going to leave a police constable here as a precaution. I’ll give you my card and we’ll probably need to speak to you again.”