The red Saab was nowhere in sight. The whole twisted business here was finally starting to take some sort of pattern. The psychological torture and abuse of young women immediately prior to their deaths was almost certainly the ongoing crime that SO10 were investigating here. How it was all being orchestrated I still had no idea. Nor could I begin to explain why it was happening. Thank God, though, I at last had a lead on who was doing it. After thirty minutes I decided the house was probably empty. Time to get a closer look. I climbed out of the car and walked up the street. The house had three floors, including the basement. To the right of the front door were three tall rectangular windows, each directly above the next. No lights behind any of them. No sign of movement. At the rear were narrow, walled gardens with high wooden gates and a cobbled alleyway. When I reached 108 I took a quick look round and vaulted up and over the gate. Snow in the small back garden was largely untouched but I managed to follow the footprints of someone who’d taken a walk to the dustbins and back.
