Jessica nodded, trying to look reassuring. ‘Are you sure they were both men?’

‘Definitely.’

Jessica asked her next question and held her breath. She knew the answer could be crucial. ‘Did you get a good look at the man who ran off?’

The woman squinted as if to indicate she was thinking. ‘It was dark but he ran straight under that light opposite. I think I’d recognise him. He wasn’t massive, more like one of those rugby players. Do you know what I mean? Kind of thick and strong but not fat. He had dark hair but it was quite short.’

Jessica thought the description sounded a lot like Donald McKenna. She remembered the prison governor telling her they were locked up from eight at night until eight in the morning. She looked over at the clock on the wall; it was almost ten.

‘How old would you say he was?’

‘That’s hard to say. Maybe somewhere in his thirties? I don’t know. He had one of those faces, either a younger man who looks older or an older man who looks younger. I’ve never been that good with guessing people’s ages anyway.’

It wasn’t an exact description for the man supposed to be locked in Manchester Prison but it wasn’t too far away either. Given the darkness and the distance, it could be accurate. Jessica explained they would need her to visit the station and give a formal witness statement and then asked if she would mind doing it that night even though it was late. The woman didn’t seem too put out, so Jessica phoned the station and asked the desk sergeant to make sure someone would be on site to sort out a sketch. Not that long ago, it would have been someone with a giant drawing pad and a pencil but most of the profiling was now done through a computer. It could have waited until the next morning but Jessica thought it was best if someone took the description of the assailant while it was fresh.

Back downstairs, the Scene of Crime team had arrived, as had more marked police cars. Jessica arranged for one of the officers to drive the witness to the station.

It was going to be a long night.

The next day, the station was again buzzing with activity and anticipation. The murder had happened too late for the newspapers to get the story but the morning’s news broadcasts had led with the e-fit of the killer, as had plenty of news websites. At the start of the main national news bulletin, the newsreader’s first words were: ‘Is this the face of Manchester’s vigilante killer?’

Farraday arrived at the station in the early hours and insisted the photo be released to the media. Jessica had reservations considering there was no formal link to the other killings and she knew they would connect everything regardless of whether it was true. It wasn’t her call though and her boss said that even if the cases weren’t linked, it would at least get them more attention than they might usually have.

Jessica saw his reasoning but thought the opposite was also true; someone might recognise the picture but not phone in because they didn’t think their friend or family member was the so-called vigilante. She had seen the computer sketch and hadn’t changed her opinion from the night before. It looked a bit like Donald McKenna but perhaps slightly too young. It certainly wasn’t enough to start building a case against him.

She had phoned the prison the night before after arriving back at the station. It sounded like Dennis who answered on reception but, whoever it was, he didn’t hesitate in putting her through to the wing she asked for. She spoke to the warden on duty and asked him to check on Donald McKenna. The warden didn’t sound too pleased, especially considering the tension the prison staff must all be feeling after Lee Morgan’s death, but did as she asked. He came back to her a few minutes later and assured her the prisoner was in his cell.

Jessica didn’t know how many times she was going to have to make a phone call like that. She was already up to two and each one sounded ridiculous. They couldn’t request the prisoner be put under constant watch, or placed in an isolation cell which he couldn’t walk away from, without actually charging him. But they couldn’t charge him unless they had significantly more proof than they did. If the prisoner had somehow committed this new crime, he would have had just enough time to get out and back again given the timings of the incident and her phone call to the jail.

The one piece of good news the next morning was that they had identified the body. The Scene of Crime team found a wallet in the victim’s pocket with a provisional driving licence. There was also a mobile phone in his other pocket. The full results wouldn’t be back from the labs for a few hours but there was no reason to assume someone would have planted another person’s ID on a dead body.

Robert Graves wasn’t as well known to the police as the other victims but he did have a record. He was eighteen but had been arrested for shoplifting when he was thirteen. His most recent offence was taking a vehicle without consent and driving without a full licence or insurance. According to his file, it was his mother’s car he had taken and she had reported him.

The man’s identity clouded Jessica’s impression of whether he was linked to the other killings. The fact his wallet and phone had been left was similar to the first victim and showed it wasn’t just a mugging that had gone too far but the way he had been killed was different. Even without the full test results, Jessica could see he had been beaten to death, rather than stabbed. There was also something a little different about his criminal record. The prison officer may have been corrupt, while the other three were drug dealers with a history of violence, but Robert Graves was just a pest. There were thefts, muggings and plenty of drink-related incidents, despite his age, but nothing that singled him out as dangerous compared to the others.

Despite that, there was no deterring Farraday from his belief the vigilante killer had returned. He had been in his office the entire morning making phone calls to various people, as Cole was left trying to connect Lee Morgan to the rest of the bodies or Donald McKenna. Jessica’s job was to visit Robert Graves’s parents.

Their house wasn’t too far away from where their son’s body had been found the previous evening. Jessica had taken DC Jones with her in a marked police car. The estate they lived on was known for being fairly rough but the Graveses’ home was beautifully kept, making it stand out from the rest of the properties. The house next door had various car parts strewn on the front garden but theirs had a lawn mown in immaculate straight lines, with neat trimmed hedges and a well-kept flower bed that ran underneath the front window.

Jessica knew from experience that you could tell a lot about the people you were going to speak to by the first impression you had of where they lived. It didn’t always hold true and you had to be careful about the assumptions you made but she felt instantly that the Graveses wouldn’t be the stereotypical type of family who lived in this area.

Jones knocked on the front door and a man let them in. He had clearly been crying and led them through to a living room where a family liaison officer was sitting with a woman who also looked as if she had recently been in tears.

Jessica introduced herself and DC Jones. The man said his name was Arthur and his wife was Jackie. Their living room looked as if it had been decorated recently and was as well presented as the outside of the house. Arthur offered to make them all tea but the family liaison officer went to do it instead, leaving the four of them alone. It was always an awkward judgement to make as to whether bereaved relatives were stable enough to talk to you in a situation like this. You had to balance their feelings with the necessity to get the freshest information you could.