‘Laura. Good to hear from you. I’ve been thinking about what you said.’

‘What’s that?’ Laura said, her heart picking up a beat in her chest. Matthew’s voice crept across the phone line like a millipede, driving a chill up her spine. Since her meeting with the rest of the team at Sanity Line, she had begun to relax. But hearing him speak brought back all the old feelings of dread. Why did she agree to work late? Would he be standing in the shadows, waiting for her to finish her shift? Steadying her breath, she tried to focus on the call, but helping such a disturbed mind seemed too big a task.

Matthew seemed brighter today, bordering on cheerful. ‘You told me to examine my hatred towards people who cheat. I’ve been thinking about it a lot. You’re a bright girl, Laura. Probably brighter than people give you credit for.’

‘So what did you come up with?’ Laura said, trying to keep the onus off her. She bit into the fullness of her lip, her heart racing in her chest. Across the way, Joseph rose to put the kettle on. Giving him the thumbs up, Laura responded to his gesture to ask if she wanted tea. She placed her hand over the receiver, taking a deep breath as she willed herself to calm down.

For now, Matthew was reposeful and in the background the low drawl of country music played. Laura pressed her phone tightly to her ear to try to decipher his location. Was it a radio? Television? Or was he in a bar? She jumped as Matthew’s voice boomed down the line.

‘I’ve been thinking about my past. Perhaps I have my father to thank.’

‘Would you like to talk about that?’ Laura said, grabbing a pen to take forbidden notes. If she could not trace his location, perhaps his background would provide a clue. A surge of excitement bubbled up inside her. Yes, this was dangerous but it was exciting too. She imagined her uncle’s face as she provided him with answers. She could do this. She had to.

‘My mother did her best,’ Matthew said. ‘She was away a lot for work while Dad stayed at home to look after me. Sometimes she’d be gone overnight, sometimes the whole weekend. My parents were wealthy. I didn’t go without, but my father couldn’t stay faithful for very long.’

‘And you were witness to this?’ Laura said, quickly glancing around before scribbling on her pad. Joseph smiled as he placed a cup of tea on her desk, the persistent ring of his telephone calling him away before he could glance at her notes.

‘I saw everything from a very early age. They weren’t business colleagues he brought home either, they were hookers, flea-bitten slags. He did things to those women that you wouldn’t believe.’ Matthew exhaled a bitter laugh. ‘But don’t worry, I won’t taint your innocent ears.’

Was he telling the truth, Laura wondered, or fabricating an explanation in the hope she would see him in a better light? She tried to listen for clues in the background, but the music had died, and all she could hear was Matthew’s breathing as he paused for thought.

‘I used to watch them you know,’ he said. ‘Sometimes he would have two or three at a time. He called it letting off steam. He didn’t care if I saw them. He was off his face on coke by then.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ Laura said, scribbling his words down.

Matthew continued to speak, without acknowledging her response. He took a breath, exhaling it slowly, as if the act required more effort than he was able to give. ‘As I got older the visits continued. Then I began to wonder if my mother knew – if her time away was to give him the outlet he needed because she would not give in to his demands.’

‘That’s a lot of big thoughts for such a young person,’ Laura said, as Matthew fell quiet. ‘Did you have any family members you could confide in?’

Matthew sighed. ‘I was too ashamed. As I grew older, their visits became oddly fascinating, and sometimes…’

‘Go on,’ Laura encouraged.

‘Sometimes they tried to get me to join in. I can still hear the sound of my father’s laughter as they yanked down my trousers, my cheeks burning with humiliation. They revolted me, all of them. I didn’t know where to turn.’

‘When did it stop?’ Laura said, resisting the urge to question his identity.

‘When my parents divorced I thought things would get easier, but I still carried a lot of anger inside. Mum got me a therapist, and for a while it helped, but I can’t seem to move on from the past.’

‘Have you tried speaking to your dad?’ Laura said, thoughts of Mason Gatley firmly in her mind.

‘He’s not around anymore. My biggest regret is not confronting him at the time.’

‘That must have been awful for you, growing up like that,’ Laura said. But in truth, she had little sympathy for the man on the other end of the line. Uncle Owen was depending on her. Nobody was safe until the killer was caught. She gripped her pen, trying to gather the courage to ask if Mason Gatley was his dad.

‘When someone’s unfaithful, nobody asks the rest of the family how they feel,’ Matthew said. ‘But I care. And I’m going to make it stop.’

Laura nibbled on the tip of her pen, wondering for the hundredth time if he was being honest. At points during his conversation, he seemed sincere, heartfelt. But other times, as his voice waned, she wondered if he had veered from the truth. ‘Did you tell your mum how you felt?’

‘She’d been hurt enough. We both were. Besides, Mum couldn’t bear to look at me because I reminded her of him.’

A door opened and closed in the background as Laura heard Matthew move from one room to another. He cleared his throat, his words still trailing down the phone. ‘Then I found myself in a place with like-minded people. For the first time in my life, it was like I belonged. I met a man like me, who understood how I felt. We made plans. I knew what I had to do.’

‘Who was it? A relation? A friend? Someone who lived nearby?’ Laura said, cursing her inability to ask a direct question. But even across the phone line, his presence intimidated her. Her uncle’s words played on her mind. Had Matthew really killed those women? Throttled them until the air left their lungs? Laura’s fingers found the base of her throat as his response was returned.

‘He was my only friend, well, apart from you,’ Matthew chuckled. ‘He’s Mason Gatley. I thought you would have guessed that by now.’ His voice slowed to a crawl. ‘Don’t you know who I am?’

‘You’re Matthew,’ Laura said, clutching the phone so tightly her fingers began to ache.

‘That’s not my real name,’ he said. ‘But you know that already, don’t you? So why don’t you just come out and ask me who I am?’