Jane just managed to make it into the bathroom before she threw up. The images had taken her unawares again, despite her best intention to block out any invasion. She still couldn't understand how this man was able to enter her mind, seemingly at will. This time she had not known the victim but she knew the killer. His scent was still wrapped thickly around her tongue and he tasted bad. She spat the remains of acidic vomit from her mouth into the sink and stared down at the splattered white porcelain, gripping the edges fiercely. The odd thing was that she had no sense of the here and now about this murder. It was almost as though she was watching a delayed playback. Quite how this was possible was only the latest in a growing list of questions.

She had hoped to enlist the help of Karl Meyers' son, but Detective Inspector Danny was carrying a deep-seated grudge against her based on the past, and in truth she couldn't blame him. At least Lana Genovese had found something more interesting to do and had disappeared for now. Perhaps the dead woman was satisfied that she had taken the case and would leave her to work it in peace.

She rinsed her mouth from the tap and spat the last of the bad taste out. Her first thought had been to leave town until the whole thing pa.s.sed over, but she knew that there was no way place she could run to that would be far enough away. For whatever reason, this killer was locked onto her. She was seeing through his eyes and that wasn't about to stop any time soon.

The other problem with running was that once she started, she was not sure that she could stop. 8 years ago she had foolishly rushed into the bas.e.m.e.nt of Arthur Durage convinced that he was the Crucifier serial killer. Her actions had led directly to the deaths of both Karl Meyers and Arthur Durage himself. After that night, she had been buried by the police and pushed aside by Karl's family to the point that she had only been able to observe her friend's funeral from a safe distance.

The phone rang in the other room and she wandered to pick it up without much enthusiasm. There was a tight knot in her stomach that told her that the point of no return was about to be pa.s.sed. She knew who was on the other end of the line without picking it up, just as she knew that the news was bad.

"h.e.l.lo, Danny," she answered.

"Ms Parkes," he began unsurely, before pausing.

Jane waited patiently in the silence, instinctively knowing that the man was having trouble coming to terms with calling her.

"s.h.i.t..., I don't even know why I'm calling," he finally said, sighing heavily. "Look, there's been another murder. I've just spent the last hour at a very unpleasant crime scene. Fortunately for you, the doc puts the time of death at around about when I was with you late yesterday or just a little after. Certainly you wouldn't have had time to reach the crime scene so as alibis go, that's a pretty good one."

"I know, I saw it happen, just like the first one," Jane ventured. "Well ... almost."

This time the silence was even longer.

"Look. I don't know what any of this means or just what your motives are. I know that my father was usually a pretty good judge of character and that was one of the things that he pa.s.sed down to me. Everything in my gut says that you're on the level or, at the very least, you believe that you are."

"Danny, I don't expect you to believe any of what I've got to say - you don't have to. All I ask is that you listen and keep whatever I tell you in mind during your investigation. I never received a penny from the police or your father. I never wrote a book or did a talk show or tried to cash in in any way and I don't plan on starting now."

"Can I come and see you later this afternoon, say around 5?" he asked politely.

"Sure, swing by and I'll try and tell you what I can."

"Ms Parkes?"

"How did I know about you being gay?"

"Was it something in my manner? My walk? The way I talk?"

"Sometimes I just know things, Danny, and they're not always bad."

Danny Meyers headed into the station, still confused by his conversation with the Parkes woman. He'd spent so long picturing her as the charlatan who'd been responsible for his father's death, but now he couldn't marry the image that he'd carried with the woman that he'd finally met. He had indeed inherited many things from his father and his gut instincts had served him well during his career. It was those instincts that were now telling him to listen. He pushed aside these thoughts for now; he had far more pressing matters to attend to.

Faircliff station was a large and modern building with its superintendant sitting perched high upon his perch on the top floor. As far as Danny was concerned, Chalmers' best position was in his office far removed from the day-to-day grind of the job. The man was an effective paper pusher and could officiate with the best of them, but he was no copper.

Detective Constable Tim Selleck met him as he pa.s.sed through the lobby area, opening the secure door that led into the station beyond the public access.

"Is the team gathered?" Danny asked, knowing full well that it would have been. Selleck was a reliable officer and his right hand.

"Yes, Boss," the young man answered.

Danny had no use for "Sir" amongst his team. They were on the front lines together and "Boss" sufficed.

He headed upstairs and along the corridor towards the large communal office that the investigative team shared. Faircliff was a relatively small town with thankfully only a limited amount of serious crime and most of that was in the hands of amateurs.

There were 5 of them in total, including him. Selleck was a DC and what was commonly referred to as a "bagman", a guy who carried the metaphorical bags for the boss. There was Kim Croft, the resident civilian admin a.s.sistant. Danny had plucked her from the secretarial pool, recognising a fiercely bright woman who was wasting away without challenges. Sergeant Eileen Landing was a short, somewhat rotund, woman with a bulldog att.i.tude that never quit once she'd sunk her teeth into something, be it a case or a sandwich. Her partner was DC Bryan Wilson, a veteran of the force but one who had never risen above his rather junior rank. He was a man who had forgotten more about the job than most of them would ever know but his personal life had not sat well with their superiors. Wilson had worked Vice back in the day and had formed a romantic attachment to a working girl that he had rescued from a particularly vicious pimp. The fact that Wilson and the girl had been married for over 20 years now still didn't offset her previous occupation as far as the bosses were concerned. Danny had nothing but admiration for the man who had stuck to his guns no matter the cost to his career, and he was a valuable a.s.set.

Danny knew that a lot of his admiration for Wilson derived from the fact that his own personal life was a closely-guarded secret. Just how Jane Parkes had managed to deduce his s.e.xual orientation from one brief look still mystified him. It wasn't that he was in any way ashamed of being gay, it was just that no matter what the posters said on the outside when he'd joined, the police force was still some way behind the times when it came to accepting anything new. He had realised from the very beginning that there was a low tolerance for his kind and as the years had pa.s.sed and the gla.s.s ceiling began to lift, he wanted no part of any promotion that came as a direct result of his s.e.xuality. He was no one's poster boy and wouldn't be pushed out in front of the cameras like a dancing monkey. Everything that he had, he'd earned through intelligence and hard work.

The chatter stopped as he entered the room and he was met with a respectful silence as upturned eyes looked to him for leadership. It always gave him a sense of great pride.

He had been called out of a warm bed, and even warmer embrace, in the early hours of this morning to attend the scene of the latest murder. His first impression had immediately been that this killer was in serious danger of devolving. The scene was still carefully arranged, but the attack had been far more brutal than the first. He had been a student of the first Crucifier case, partly because of his father's involvement and partly because it was one of the most significant cases that the country had ever known.

He uncharacteristically closed the door behind him as he entered, to several raised eyebrows. "Okay. First things first," he started commandingly. "There is to be no mention of the Crucifier outside of this office. None. Clear?"

Heads quickly bobbed up and down in silent agreement.

"Alright. Let's get to work," Danny said as he approached the huge whiteboard that dominated the room.

As useful as computerised systems were, he needed to see the case in front of him. Pieces were strewn seemingly at random around the board. Photographs and reports were held in place by magnets as the images of before and after mingled perversely. Lana Genovese smiled down atop the board, her face happy and warm. Below that were images from her crime scene and autopsy mocking the life in her eyes. There were black lines drawn between her involvement in the original Crucifier case and the new. There was little reason to doubt that there was a connection.

Danny had little interest in ghost stories. As far as he was concerned, his father had brought down the Crucifier. Whoever had gone after Lana Genovese had intimate knowledge of the original case and that would only narrow the field.

"Anything come in on Lana Genovese?" he asked hopefully.

"Nothing, Boss," Kim Croft shrugged.

"She was killed in the woods, no witnesses, nothing to suggest a motive as yet," Wilson started. "Well ... outside of the original case, that is," he finished uncomfortably.

Danny had already set Wilson to work delving into the young woman's life, but so far nothing had raised any red flags. She had been a quiet woman who'd kept to herself, no jealous angry boyfriend, no disputes, just a life lived below the radar. They wouldn't stop looking for a motive, no matter how tempting it was to concentrate on her connection to Arthur Durage's bas.e.m.e.nt. "Okay, last night's murder. What have we got so far?"

"Donna Moss," DS Landing said, starting to read from her notes.

Danny winced at the sergeant's ketchup stains on her blouse. He always felt like he could almost tell the time of day by the remnants on her clothing. She favoured a bacon or sausage sandwich for breakfast and she always seemed to end up wearing part of it. He made sure that all of his detectives wore suits and projected an aura of professionalism at all times.

"22 years old, American citizen working as an au pair for a Mr and Mrs Spencer here in Faircliff," Landing finished.

"No priors, no record of any kind, not even a parking ticket," DC Wilson chipped in. "Here legally, pa.s.sport and visa all in order, nothing about her anywhere in the system."

"Witnesses?" Danny asked.

"Nothing yet. No one has come forward. The body was discovered by a park keeper a..., Malcolm Procter," DC Selleck replied.

"So far nothing to cause any suspicion," Wilson added.

"I interviewed him this morning myself; he seemed on the level," Landing shrugged. "He was pretty shook up by what he found, even puked."

Danny trusted her judgement without question, but it was always his procedure to double interview any potential witnesses/suspects and he would talk to the guy himself at some point. "CCTV?"

"The footage is being dropped off later this morning," Selleck said. "There's pretty good coverage of the park because of the kiddies' playground. The council actually stumped up the cash for once to pay for the installation, just in case someone tried to s.n.a.t.c.h a child."

"Good," Danny nodded. "You go through them when they come in and Wilson will take a look afterwards."

"The case files from the Arthur Durage investigation are all on your desk," Wilson said as though reading Danny's mind.

"Right then. Kim," Danny said thoughtfully, addressing the a.s.sistant, "I want every sc.r.a.p of paperwork collated as soon as it comes in and on my desk, no interruptions today," he said, meaning that she was to keep everything non-essential off his desk. "Selleck, wait for the park footage to come in and take the first pa.s.s at it. Landing, scrounge as many uniforms as you need and start canva.s.sing the park. It should be filling up by now," he said, checking his watch. "Anyone that was there yesterday and might have seen anything out of the ordinary. Wilson, I want you down at the coroners; sit on the doc until he's finished the autopsy on Donna Moss and check to see if there's anything new on Lana Genovese."

"Boss!" Kim suddenly broke in and flashed him the thumbs down sign that signalled the approach of Chalmers.

Danny groaned inwardly. The superintendant was only ever a hindrance on the rare occasion that he put in an appearance. If he was coming, then it could only mean that there was political pressure coming down the line as that was always Chalmers' prime concern. "Right, get to it," he ordered the team and they scattered quickly.

"Meyers," Chalmers said as he burst into the room. "Did I miss the briefing?" he asked innocently, feigning disappointment.

"Only just, Sir. What can I do for you?" Danny answered, hoping to have the man on his way as quickly as possible.

"This Crucifier connection," Chalmers said, walking slowly to the whiteboard with his hands clasped behind his back. "How serious is it?" His face paled visibly as he scanned the photographs of the two corpses with the carvings in their chests.

"Copycat markings and M.O, Sir. Whoever did these killings had knowledge of the original case to be sure. Both bodies were staged in a crucifixion pose on the ground identical to the original victims."

"And the Parkes woman?"

"All taken care of, Sir." Danny blushed a little at the rebuke for his momentary loss of control. Chalmers had read him the riot act after he'd arrested Jane Parkes and he knew that the man was concerned over his political standing. Everyone knew that Chalmers was only in the job for the shiny b.u.t.tons that came when ascending the greasy pole.

"Just so we're clear, Meyers, I didn't just want her out of the station. I don't want her anywhere near this case, either as a suspect or as a..., consultant," Chalmers said delicately.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Sir."

"Good, good. Your father was an excellent officer, Danny, a fine detective. You'll do well to follow in his shoes, just not all the way."

"No, Sir, everything is under control here, I can a.s.sure you," Danny smiled with a struggle.

"Well then, I'll leave you to it," Chalmers said turning.

Just then, the phone rang on Kim's desk and she s.n.a.t.c.hed up the handset. Danny turned to her to see if it was anything that he had to deal with. He felt worried as her face visibly dropped and he walked towards her wondering just what bad news had arrived now. She shook her head at him as he approached. "Superintendant Chalmers, it's for you," she said shakily.

Chalmers' face crinkled as he strode to take the phone from the a.s.sistant. Danny watched as the man's expression went from surprise to a shaking purple anger that he had seldom seen before.

The superintendant slammed down the phone and spoke with his jaw clenched in anger. "Someone get me a b.l.o.o.d.y copy of this morning's Globe!"

Jane headed in through the doors of "Best 4 Pets" accompanied by the chiming door sensor that announced a new arrival. She was early for her shift but couldn't stand pottering about the house any longer waiting for a new vision, invited or uninvited, not to mention the fact that the second victim had now started to wander about the cottage aimlessly. This new girl was young and confused and Jane could see the signs that the girl would start freaking out at some point in the very near future. She had driven into work and not been surprised at several points along the way to see both girls sitting in the back seat In truth, Jane was nothing if not confused and there was no one to turn to for help or advice. Certainly, the internet was rife with pretenders making all kinds of outrageous claims. She knew that, by the law of averages, some of them must be genuine, but she was not about to expose herself to that sort of world blindly.

She was tempted to try and peek inside the killer's head again. There was a kind of psychic trail that he'd left behind during his transmissions, one that she could still just about grab on to. But after he had caught her the first time, she was loath to try again so soon.

"Hey, Janey," Jessica Nelson, the owner of the shop, greeted her. "You're not on yet, are you?" she asked, checking her watch.

Jane liked Jessica a great deal. She was a spruce woman of indeterminate elderly age and unfathomable energy. She was always upbeat and friendly no matter if a customer was spending a small fortune or just popping in to pet the animals.

"Just at a loose end," she shrugged.

"Well, I know one person who'll be glad to see you," Jessica teased, as Marty Kline appeared like magic at the back of the store.

Jane rolled her eyes with a sigh. "Don't you go encouraging him."

"Maybe a strapping young buck is just what you need," Jessica giggled.

"He's just a kid!"

"All the better," Jessica winked, as she wheeled a trolley off with returns for the shelves.

Jane shook her head with a friendly rebuke as her boss disappeared down the aisle. The last thing that she needed at the minute was the complications of a man in her life or, even worse, a boy. She already had one guy poking around inside her mind; she didn't need another.

"Hi, Jane," Marty said, blushing furiously as usual.

"Hi, Marty," Jane replied, moving away towards the staffroom at the back.

"You know, I was looking in the local paper this morning. There's a showing of the original Cape Fear playing at The Regal on Sat.u.r.day night."

Jane's stomach tensed as she felt the date invitation waddling its way into view like a drunken cow into the path of oncoming traffic unable to swerve. He had asked her out several times before but he was becoming bolder and she was running out of excuses.

She turned to him, meaning to start the long overdue "friends" conversation, when out of the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of someone staring at her. As she turned fully the person was gone, having ducked behind a fish food promotional display.

She left Marty - as he was still talking but looking down at the floor with burning cheeks - and dashed down the aisle to where the figure had gone. With everything that was going on, she was suspicious of everything, and a person peeking surrept.i.tiously at her was not going to go unchallenged.

She reached the display but there was no one there. The store was relatively busy as people browsed on their lunch hours. The puppy enclosure was always a popular draw but there were also open Perspex topless boxes with rabbits and guinea pigs that were by now comfortable to be touched.

She darted up one lane and down another, not knowing what or who she was looking for, but knowing that she would the instant she saw them.

A woman and small ice-cream smeared little girl stepped out in front of her. "Excuse me?" the woman asked, noting Jane's logoed polo shirt. "I was looking for some organic bird food, something that's not packed full of chemicals."

Jane tried to lean around the woman as she spotted the back of a man who seemed oddly familiar. "Aisle 7," she responded to the woman, half listening.

"But is it organic? I mean the sort of wild birds that we get in tend to be a mite fussier than the town creatures."

Jane tried to ease past the woman but she was blocking her path and tapping a foot impatiently. The woman was obviously used to being obeyed. She wore the expensive tweed of a city girl who'd moved out to the country and considered herself a Lady of the Manor.

"Look, it's just bird food, okay?" Jane snapped as she desperately tried to find the man again as he'd momentarily disappeared from view.

"Yes, but I was reading on the internet..." the woman started in a patronising tone.

"For Christ's sake, lady, it's nuts and seeds! Trust me, the birds don't care what's on the label or how much it costs," Jane barked as she barged past. The door chime above the main doors had just gone off and she knew that the man had just left.

She felt Jessica's surprised look as she ran past and out into the car park outside. Jane held a hand up to shield her face against the sun as she whipped her head from side to side, trying to catch sight of the guy. A car bleeped as it was automatically unlocked and she ran towards the sound. She had been a victim once in Arthur Durage's bas.e.m.e.nt; she had made a promise to herself that she would never be again and it was a promise that she intended to keep no matter what.

She saw the orange flash of indicator lights and zeroed in on the car as a man climbed in and pulled the door shut behind him. His head was turned and his body was in shadow but she knew that she had seen him before.

She heard the sound of the engine roaring into life just as she got to the car and, without thinking, she reached and yanked the driver's door open. The man turned towards her with shock and fear etched across his face at her sudden appearance. She couldn't immediately place where she knew him from but that didn't matter.

"What the h.e.l.l do you want?" she snarled, her hands c.o.c.ked into fists and her body instinctively a.s.suming a fighter's stance.