“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Collins. You remember my partner, Jack. This is a colleague of ours, Kathy. She’s a police sketch artist.”

Amanda’s parents nodded their acceptance of the intrusion.

Sally approached the bed and said softly, “Well, it’s nice to have you back with us, Amanda. How are you feeling?”

“Not quite with it. Are you the police?” She eyed Jack warily.

Sally turned to her partner, winked at him, and motioned for him to wait outside. Jack cleared his throat, mumbled something about stepping out, and left the room before Sally continued talking to the victim. “I am. I’m the investigating officer working your case. I wondered if you were up to telling us how the incident happened.”

“I can try. Some things are a little fuzzy. I’m willing to help if I can.”

“Are you up to giving us a description of the man?”

Amanda closed her eyes and her chin began to wobble.

Sally smiled. “Okay, leave that for now. I don’t want to cause you any stress. Let’s wait until your body has had time to adjust first.”

“No. I want to. I can see his face. It’s imprinted in my mind. Every time I close my eyes, his face is hounding me, taunting me. If I share the information with you, do you think it will help me to get over it quicker?” she asked anxiously.

“Judging by what other victims have told us in the past, yes. Some people say it’s a form of therapy.”

“Mum, can you get me a drink of water, please?”

Mrs. Collins placed a straw to Amanda’s lips, and the girl sipped the clear liquid, emptying half the glass before she pulled her head away. “Thanks, Mum.” She smiled at her mother then looked up at Sally. “Where do you want me to start?”

“By telling us if you recognised the man who attacked you. Did you know him at all?”

“No, and yet there was something vaguely familiar about him.”

Sally asked the question that had been bugging her since the night Amanda was attacked. “Why were you in the alley that night?”

“I’d just finished a shift at work.”

“Where do you work, Amanda?” Sally asked.

“At Lewis Supermarket. I work the evening shift, stacking the shelves from five until eleven, four days a week.”

“I see. And the staff entrance backs on to the alley, I take it?” Sally tried to recall the layout of the area.

“No, a few alleys over. I use the cut-through to get to my bus stop. The last bus leaves there at eleven ten. If I don’t get on that, I’m screwed.”

“So you take that same route regularly?”

“Yes, after every shift.”

“And have you ever noticed anyone hanging around, possibly waiting for you before?”

She paused for a moment to cast her mind back. “Like a stalker? Not that I can remember. I would have told my parents if I’d had any fears like that.”

“Okay, at least that’s one thing. So, can you explain what happened right before the attack occurred? I mean, did he jump you from behind, or approach you on the ruse of asking the way? Something like that?”

A fearful and pained expression pulled at Amanda’s features. “He jumped out at me. He was waiting in a doorway and pounced, grabbed me around the throat.” Her hand went to her neck. “As soon as I passed by; as if he was waiting for me. If I had seen anyone lurking down the alley looking suspicious, I would have turned back immediately and taken the long way round. I tried to fight him off, but he was far stronger than me. Before I had the chance to figure out what was going on, he had me down on the ground. One hand over my mouth and the other up my sk…” Her voice trailed off, and she glanced in her father’s direction, apparently unable to say any more about the attack in front of him.

Sally got the gist of what she meant so bypassed the issue rather than feel the wrath of Mr. Collins’s tongue again. “Did you have any unusual interaction with anyone at work during your shift?”

“I don’t understand. You think it was a co-worker who did this to me?”

“You said he seemed vaguely familiar. I’m just trying to figure how you knew the culprit, Amanda. We need to know why he chose you to attack.”

She shook her head, winced, and twisted her neck until it made a loud crack. “Does there have to be a motive to all attacks? I haven’t led anyone on or anything like that,” she stated quietly.

Sally smiled at the young woman. “I wasn’t insinuating you had. Maybe this was just an off-the-cuff attack. Perhaps you were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Do you want to try and give us a description now?”

“Yes.”

For the next twenty minutes, in between sobs and large breaths, Amanda described the assailant in detail as Kathy sketched. Between them, a face appeared on the paper. Then after a few minor adjustments were completed, Kathy handed Sally the sketch. She compared it to the sketch Kathy had drawn based on the description Tracy Brand’s boyfriend had given her. The two sketches showed men with similar features, but Amanda had produced a much better plausible identity of the suspect than the first one had. No wonder the bar staff and customers at the pubs didn’t recognise him.

“Okay, that’s superb. Thank you for overcoming your pain to supply us with the details. I’m going to take this sketch and revisit some of the pubs where we believe this man might have encountered the other victims. I’m also going to visit your place of work. Maybe someone spotted the man eyeing you up at the store during the course of your shift.”

“I hope you’re going to take it to the press, too,” Mr. Collins interjected angrily.

Sally glanced up at him. “Of course, we’ll also be searching our database to see if we can compare the crimes to anyone who might have recently been released from prison on a similar offence. I hope your recovery is a speedy one, Amanda. I really appreciate you pushing yourself to give us this description. It was very brave of you.”

“I just don’t want anyone else going through what this man has done to me. My father said none of the other women survived.”

“That’s right, unfortunately.”

“Someone must have been looking down on me then. For that, I’m grateful.”

Sally and Kathy left the room.

“How did it go?” Jack asked as the three of them headed back to the car.

“Good, I think. At least we have a better idea of the suspect now.” She held the sketch up for him.

“That’s great. What now?”

“Back to the station.”

Once they arrived, Sally thanked Kathy for her stunning work before she and Jack entered the incident room. The rest of the team glanced their way expectantly. Sally took out the sketch and placed it alongside a copy of the first drawing.

“Wow, there’s no comparison! Perhaps the boyfriend was still drunk when he gave his description of the suspect,” Joanna exclaimed.

“Precisely. Just goes to prove how much more observant women are in comparison to men. Anyway, here’s what we’re going to do. First, I want everyone to prepare for a long shift. By the end of it, I’m hoping we’ll have this man’s name and address, at the very least.”

“Can I make a suggestion, boss?” Joanna asked, sounding uncertain.

“Sure, go on.”

“Why not revisit Dorling? It’s been a few days since your last visit. There should be some improvement in his condition by now. Maybe he’ll recognise the sketch now.”

“That’s definitely on my to-do list, Joanna. Thanks for the reminder. He wasn’t able to see the other sketch, so at least he’s a fresh witness. Can you get onto the media, try and get a slot on the evening news tonight? I haven’t really got time to call a press conference. Check if they’ll be happy to run the story only with the information we give them, will you?”

“I’m sure that will be fine. Do you want me to contact the evening paper, too?”

“Yes, do that. Right, Jordan and Stuart, while Jack and I are at the prison with Dorling, I need you to revisit all the pubs where the victims worked and flash the sketch around, see if anyone recognises the man or, better still, can name him. Okay, let’s get to it, people. We’re close now. Let’s keep the momentum going until we can haul this guy in.”