Beth twisted each of the bath’s taps and discarded her clothes. Only her underwear would go into the wash basket. The trouser suit and her blouse were ruined and, as such, only fit for the bin.

Her body had begun to stiffen as the various aches and pains she’d collected from the ordeal in the cellar manifested themselves. There was not a part of her that didn’t hurt in one way or another. She had multiple scrapes and there were bruises starting to show in a variety of colours on her legs, arms and torso.

She poured a few slugs of antiseptic into the bathwater and added a generous slop of bubble bath. A shower would be quicker, but there was something about a bath that soothed aching muscles and tired limbs.

As much as her body was spent, Beth’s mind was still on overdrive. So much had happened during the day that she’d barely had a chance to properly collate her thoughts. Three more victims; the drama of the collapse and the subsequent rescue by O’Dowd; the information learned early in the day; and not to mention O’Dowd’s breakdown and revelation about her daughter.

The first thing she put her mind to were the victims. If Hewson was right, and she had no reason to doubt him, the first two victims had been women, followed by two men. The killer could be working to a pattern, or it could be pure chance. If it was coincidence, then what connected the victims? And if it was a pattern, and everything about this killer suggested there was a hidden agenda, then that suggested a woman would be the next victim, assuming, that was, that they’d found all the people he’d killed so far. The media were already putting a lot of pressure on them for Angus Keane and it was only a matter of time before they learned of the poor souls killed at Highstead Castle.

Another factor she had to consider was how the killer was getting his victims into the abandoned places while still alive. Nobody would have gone down to that cellar without protest. She supposed the killer may have used a gun or knife to force them, but wouldn’t there have been a point when they refused to cooperate? Angus Keane was a builder, his body was lean and taut. Dylan’s father was a muscular man who looked as though he either worked out, or had a job that kept him physically fit.

She couldn’t get her head round either man acquiescing to the killer’s instructions without putting up a fight. But neither had shown wounds consistent with an attack. There were no knife wounds other than the surgery required to fit the wings to their backs. Bullet wounds were also absent.

All this meant the killer had found a way to control his victims. Drugs were the obvious answer, with Hewson’s suggestion of Rohypnol being a standout candidate. A pill dropped into a drink could render the person incapable of independent thought. They’d do as requested without question. That’s why it was known to many as the date-rape drug. Once taken, the user lost the power of free will.

With luck, the drug could still be traceable in the urine of the male victim.

Next on her mental checklist was to find a connection between the two country houses where the murders took place. She’d floated it as a theory to O’Dowd and had been given instructions to compile a list of other derelict houses in the county, in case there were more victims hidden in other cellars. After popping into the office first thing in the morning, Beth planned to visit the library to do this research. Penrith had a library, but Carlisle’s was far more likely to have comprehensive records.

Beth’s memories of Penrith library were sketchy at best. She knew she’d been there a few times as a child, but other than the constant reminders to be quiet, she remembered nothing other than tall shelves stacked with books. What she did recall were the news items about cuts to the library system; Penrith was large enough to have avoided the accountant’s axe this time round, but many of the smaller towns in the region had seen their libraries closed or cut back to minimal hours. She wasn’t big on reading – apart from her puzzle magazines and the books she bought to keep on serial killers – but if the libraries were first, how long before cutbacks were made to other essential services?

She’d had a look online, but hadn’t found what she’d needed. In among the listings which came back was a book on country houses in the north-west. It looked as if it would hold the information she needed. In the morning she could check to see if Penrith library held a copy. If they didn’t, she was sure that Carlisle library would have a copy in their archives.

O’Dowd hadn’t instructed her to do so, but she planned to extend her search to neighbouring counties as well. Dumfries and Galloway was only a few miles from Arthuret Hall, and she reasoned that the killer may not respect county boundaries the way bureaucracy did.

The fact that all three of the latest victims seemed to have been killed at different times, though all at Highstead Castle, made her wonder if the killer had a connection to the house. Max Cooper had told them he’d recently bought the place, therefore she needed to concentrate on the previous owners – families who knew the building and more than just its existence – who would know of the twin cellars, and of the building’s isolation.

The killer would have an affinity to the house. Perhaps they’d see it as a special place, one worthy of being the scene of a murder. Could that account for the connection with the dragons? Some mythical link which the killer believed tied the beasts to certain locations? Even as she thought this, Beth recognised the idea as fanciful. Still, until they had a suspect to focus on, they had to consider all possibilities. While to Beth, mythology was nothing more than a collection of tall tales embellished through centuries of retelling, she knew many people believed in horoscopes, the occult and dozens of other things that defied logic, so there was no way she was going to discount any mythological connection without hard evidence.

Though none of this explained why Angus Keane had been left at Arthuret Hall. This was out of sync with the other killings in terms of location; therefore she reasoned that either Angus or Arthuret Hall was significant in some way.

Beth cast her mind back to the beginning of the day and re-ran the interviews with the potential suspects for the murder of Angus Keane. None had presented a strong reason or motive to kill the builder, and the meetings had all passed without incident. The only thing of note had been the man who’d given her the creeps in the way he’d stared at her scar. But even that hadn’t been worth remarking on at the time.

His gazing had gone beyond a polite look, travelled past the point of interest and had set up base camp at obsession. The man’s eyes hadn’t held lust or longing, rather they’d suggested he was reconstructing her, transporting her back to the time before a scarred cheek dominated her looks.

Beth dismissed thoughts of the man on the basis that he had not seemed a likely suspect in other regards, and reasoned that if she suspected every person who looked at her strangely, she’d never solve a case.

She turned her mind to her discussion with O’Dowd at Highstead Castle. Of their four-strong team, it looked as if only herself and Paul Unthank were not dealing with personal problems.

Unthank’s world centred on his job and spending time with his fiancée, whereas her life, well, that was about the job and the job alone. Besides, police work was hard on relationships. There were unrelenting shift patterns, the traumas of the job and a dozen other reasons why coppers struggled to maintain long relationships. If love came her way, so be it, but she wasn’t interested in looking for it.

Her friends were forever trying to set her up with someone, but none of the guys they suggested appealed to her. She was confident that she’d find someone herself, but for the time being, she was in no hurry.

Another concern was how distracted her superiors were. O’Dowd had intimated to her that Thompson had turned down her offer of a transfer to another team where he’d be able to work less-intense hours, and the DI’s situation was such that Beth didn’t think today’s lapse of focus would necessarily be a solitary event.

The severity of the case demanded that all the detectives be at the top of their respective games. Distractions caused by family issues, regardless of how upsetting they might be, couldn’t be tolerated if they were to succeed in catching the killer. As it was, it looked as if Dylan’s father had been murdered after they’d got the case, and it would be horrific if another life were to be lost because the team lacked direction. As much as she felt for both Thompson and O’Dowd, she knew they would need to put their personal problems aside before more people were killed. In the meantime, she resolved to do everything she could to solve the case, covering for her new colleagues if necessary.