Beth nudged O’Dowd, eliciting a shriek and a curse, as she drew the DI’s attention to where her torch was shining on the ground beside the door. There was a quarter circle where the door had scuffed its way through the detritus on the floor of the cellar when swung open.

‘I hope to God I’m wrong, ma’am, but something tells me there’s more than just these two bodies down here.’

O’Dowd gave a hissed sigh as her answer.

Beth eased past the DI and, with her torch pointing down, picked her way to the door. It was half rotted in its frame. She cast a look at O’Dowd, who’d followed, for permission, and once she’d seen the curt nod, wound her fingers around the handle.

When she swung the door to open it, it came free in her hands and toppled towards her. O’Dowd’s shoulder was the first thing it hit before pivoting towards Beth and thwacking rotten timber into her forehead.

‘Careful!’

There was more than admonishment in the DI’s voice. Fear and disgust added layers, as did excitement.

Beth understood the emotions. She felt them too. Her pulse was racing at the horrifying thrill of finding dead bodies in such a derelict environment. The idea of breathing your last in such a place terrified her, but it was counteracted by the charge of excitement that came from the knowledge she was exploring a killer’s stomping ground. Tracing his footsteps and looking for clues which would help her catch him.

With the door leaning against a wall, she flashed her torch into the opening. The remnants of a partition crossed the room and disappeared into blackness.

She inched forward, sliding her feet so she didn’t trip over anything. As they bumped against something, her torch picked out a skeletal hand ahead.

Beth felt hot breath on her neck as O’Dowd crowded into her back.

‘C’mon, move forward so I can get a decent look.’

A push on her back caused Beth to stumble forward before she could lift her foot over whatever it had butted up against.

She staggered three paces before gravity won its battle with posture. As she fell, Beth tumbled into the base of the partition. She had just enough time to duck her head into her shoulders so her face wasn’t the first point of contact. She dropped the torch as her hands reached out to break her fall.

Even over her pained yelp, she heard the splintering of timber, and felt the whoosh of air caused by sudden movement and the pitter-pattering that forewarned an avalanche. She tried to stand so she could make a run for it, but she was trapped beneath what she guessed was the partition.

Beth thrashed for a moment to no avail. As the splintering sounds increased in volume, she did her best to curl into a ball and wrapped her hands over her head.

A loud crack filled the air and there was a sudden thumping on her body as the ceiling fell in on her.

The air was knocked from her lungs, and as Beth gasped for oxygen she inhaled through her nose. The relief of getting a precious breath was tainted by the foulness of the room and its contents permeating the air.

Now she had to fight the gorge rising in her throat, as well as the oppressive weight pushing down on her body. There was no way she could allow herself to be sick while trapped.

Beth forced herself to swallow the bile so she could concentrate on breathing again. She couldn’t die in here. Wouldn’t die in here. She refused to accept the possibility that she would die in this rat-infested cellar. Too many others had and she wasn’t prepared to join them.

Something crashed against her head and she felt everything go fuzzy.