BLOOD STAINED an unputdownable crime thriller with a breathtaking twist (Detective Claudia Nunn Book by Rebecca Bradley (whitelam books .txt) 📗

on our streets. If it isn’t then we have two lunatics running free in the city. I’m not sure which of those scenarios is worse.’

Dominic’s team were great cops and would handle this but no one wanted a serial killer. No one wanted the women of the city to be afraid to go out of their homes.

He remembered back to the last serial killer. He had only been a young lad, not yet in the police, but he remembered the Yorkshire Ripper. Women being told not to go out at night on their own. His mum holding onto her cross around her neck as she soaked up the news at tea time, clutching it like it would ward off all the badness that was coming through the set. The reporter talking about hammers and violent injuries. Fear had been something once removed for him as a young man, but he remembered the reporting and the general sense of shock in the city. That this could happen so close to them. It hadn’t hit them in Sheffield but it wasn’t far enough away for people to feel like it was just another TV report that they could watch and move on from. This was real to them. They were Yorkshire people. There was a kinship to the women in the cities he was stalking. This felt like their lives. After all, he was the Yorkshire Ripper and they were Yorkshire folk.

Dominic couldn’t bear to think that they could go through that again. The fear that seeped through the whole city, petrified that the violence and death would be visited upon them.

And this time, it was. Or it looked like it was heading that way.

He ran a hand through his hair. ‘I take it everyone else needed has already been alerted?’

‘Yes, CSU and the pathologist are on their way.’

Dominic alerted the team and within five minutes they were out the door and headed to the second crime scene.

* * *

It was November now and the day was chilly. There was a slight mist in the air in the woods and it added an eerie feel to the proceedings. Leaves crumpled beneath Dominic’s feet as he approached the scene, some sticking to his shoes as he moved. Once at the perimeter, he placed the shoe guards on and approached the rest of the way on the metal plates placed down by the CSIs, stepping carefully on the damp woodland floor.

Nadira Azim was already there, standing beside a CSI over the grave. They were deep in discussion as Dominic approached.

‘Morning. Please tell me it’s not another of the same?’ He came parallel with the two professionals and looked down at the soil, where a woman was on her side with her face in the dirt. Dominic had no idea of her age.

Again it was a shallow grave. It didn’t appear that the killer was interested in hiding his victims well. It was as though he wanted to be caught, or at least wanted his kills to be found. Was he making a statement? The fact that he didn’t bury the women deeper would indicate he had something to say with their bodies. They were a message. But who to and what was he saying? If only Dominic could answer these questions maybe he would be a step closer to finding out who was behind it.

‘Morning, Dom.’ Nadira smiled at him. ‘We can’t say for sure, we haven’t been here long ourselves. But on first look there are a couple of indicators that this could be the same male offender. First, you can see some bruising that goes around her neck.’

Dominic let out a sigh.

‘It’s not what any of us wanted.’ She pointed into the grave the woman had been dragged out of. ‘In there you have a lipstick. It looks to be the same make as last time as well. I don’t know the significance, but that’s not my area of expertise.’

It was his and he was no further forward with it.

‘That says a lot more than the rest of her body, doesn’t it,’ he muttered.

‘It does say rather a lot. It’s not something you’ve ever released to the press either so you couldn’t imagine a copycat picking up on this and committing a similar murder. First things first though, this mist is going to tamper with our evidence so we need to get a tent erected as quickly as we can, preserve as much as possible.’

Just then a couple of CSIs strode up behind him carrying the white contraption that would protect the woman from the damp in the air. Dominic, Nadira and the CSI stood back out of their way and let them get on with their task.

As the tent was erected Dominic realised he could hear the birds in the trees, their song light and cheerful. The sound of life continuing beautifully around them so at odds with the scene in front of him. The dark damp leaves mulched down on the ground, the livid marks around the woman’s neck giving voice to her violent ending.

‘How long do you think she’s been buried here? How long do you think she’s been dead?’ he asked.

‘You know I can’t give you a time of death at the side of the body like this. I do wish you wouldn’t ask.’ She wasn’t annoyed but it was a familiar discussion.

‘A rough estimate?’

‘Can you wait until the PM? I’ll be able to give you all the details then. Right now we have to process her. We have to take the conditions into account as well as the average body breakdown process.’

Dominic scratched at his neck, the Tyvek suit rustling under his fingers. The paper suit chafing at his skin.

‘Look,’ said Nadira. ‘I know it’s frustrating, you want to ID her and start your investigation, but it’s important that we do