Page 78 of 36 Hours

Although there was no body in the space, the amount of blood on both the floor and the table she recognised from the video was troubling.

‘It’s a lot,’ Mitch said, scratching his beard.

She held her breath.

‘But not enough, in my opinion. Step aside,’ he instructed.

They did as he asked while he took another look.

‘Stand there,’ he said to Kim, pointing at a spot a couple of metres away. ‘And you there,’ he said to Bryant. ‘Shine everything you have at the ground,’ he said.

Kim pointed her phone torch, and Bryant pointed both his phone and his pocket torch.

Mitch then produced a torch that put them both to shame. All the focussed light brought the ground alive. Despite the weeds and filth, Kim was sure she could have spotted a decent-sized needle.

‘There we go,’ Mitch said, taking a couple of steps forward. ‘Blood spots. I’d say your guy parked here and moved your victim into a vehicle. At that point, he was still alive.’

‘Thank God for?—’

‘Don’t celebrate too soon. That level of blood loss and the fact he was still bleeding doesn’t bode well for the poor fellow. If he’s still alive, without medical help, he’s not going to stay like that for very long.’

Why, why, why did their sicko still want Hiccup alive? Had the poor soul not suffered enough?

What the hell did he have planned for him next?

SIXTY-ONE

5.45A.M.

‘Is the boss bringing the box back?’ Penn asked.

Stacey raised an eyebrow. ‘You really that desperate to see a piece of sliced-off skin?’

They both shuddered at the same time.

The boss had said it had been removed using a knife with some kind of serrated edge, and Stacey knew she would never cut bread again without thinking of it.

‘Read it out again, Penn,’ she said.

She closed her eyes as he said the words.

‘“The rails around the aged mound turn crimson one hour before sunrise. Find my next by 6a.m. or…”’

‘What rails, what’s an aged mound and what the hell has sunrise got to do with it?’ she asked.

‘What if the crimson relates to blood?’ Penn asked.

‘Makes sense,’ Stacey said, opening her eyes. ‘So, is he saying that Hiccup’s blood will be spilled one hour before sunrise?’

‘Which is in precisely forty-five minutes,’ Penn offered.

Stacey cursed her foggy brain. It felt like her thoughts were dripping with treacle.

‘Rails, rails, rails at six o clock,’ Stacey said as though repeating the words would set them free.

‘Aged mound,’ Penn said, pacing the floor. ‘What’s an aged mound?’

He stopped walking. ‘Old Hill, train station, rails.’