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out to Cemetery Avenue, parked up and left her vehicle, checking her phone as she walked to see if Sharpe had given her any specific operational directions. Claudia’s main objective was to locate Ruth but if Sharpe had pushed this up the chain and Connelly had got involved then just making the arrest of the killer who had been terrorising the city for the last six months might be their main concern. Her nerves were getting the better of her. Her heart thundered in her chest and her mouth was like a desert.

There was nothing on her phone.

This didn’t feel right but she had to trust that Sharpe wouldn’t leave her out here alone.

Was the Sheffield Strangler really going to meet her and allow her to see his face? He would be known, and she would be able to identify him for the other murders. Unless of course this was a hoax, someone else not the killer, who was wasting her time. Wanting to be involved in the police investigation. She hadn’t considered this. Though the public didn’t know how he communicated with them so that was something on his side. But without direct communication there was no way she could prove one way or the other until he got here. And hopefully, face or not, they were going to be able to make an arrest anyway.

Nerves ran through her veins. Itching like a clutter of spiders running rampant as she walked through the Egyptian Gate into the cemetery, the richly ornamented gate bearing snakes with tails in their mouths did little to ease her nerves. She had to get herself under control.

Claudia followed his instructions, taking a dirt track that would lead to the chapel. The sun was breaking through the clouds, making Claudia feel unreasonably warm and uncomfortable. She took several turns until she was in a part of the cemetery that didn’t look as cared for and was more discreet. She looked at her watch. It was two minutes past eleven. There was no sign of anyone around. Had she missed him? Was he so punctual that her tardiness had prevented her helping Ruth? Sweat beaded at the base of her neck and slipped down her spine. She’d wait and rely on the fact he said he was coming.

Claudia hoped her backup was silently stashed away where no one could see them — including her. She didn’t like the idea of standing out here alone waiting for a killer.

Chapter 51

Claudia

 

Claudia checked her watch again — seven minutes past. How long would she wait? She was prepared to wait as long as it took if it would get her to the truth about Ruth. But how long exactly was ‘as long as it took’?

And although she was hopeful, she couldn’t spot any sign of her support team hiding out behind overgrown tombs or leaning headstones, waiting to pounce at the earliest opportunity.

Claudia pulled her phone out of her pocket and dialled Sharpe. She picked up on the first ring.

‘Ma’am, it’s Claudia.’ She kept her voice low in case she should be interrupted, in case he was listening, waiting to see if they had prepared this.

‘Why are you whispering, Claudia?’

‘I’m at the cemetery.’

‘The cemetery? Why? Is this something I should be aware of?’

A stone-cold brick landed in Claudia’s stomach. ‘Where’s Maxine?’

‘Oh, she had to dash off, her daughter fell off some bars or something in gym class at school. Broken her arm and banged her head pretty badly. Apparently the poor girl was unconscious for a while. Maxine was in floods of tears when I arrived back from my meeting. She’d only just found out. I had to get someone to take her, she was in no state to drive herself.’

Claudia looked around at the cold grey stones littering the ground — the silent empty grounds of the cemetery.

She was alone.

It was then she heard the heavy footsteps. She froze. The blood rushing through her veins turning to ice as the sun shone down on her. It was only now she realised what a dangerous move this was. How stupid she’d been not to have organised this herself. Was she about to become the next victim? Was she about to meet Ruth trussed up in a warehouse somewhere, where no one would hear her screams?

Her breath caught in her chest and she ended the call and placed the phone back in her pocket and, as she did, she checked for the CS cannister she’d placed there before leaving the station. The cold solidity of the metal cannister in her hand provided security and some resolve.

She could do this. She had to do this.

‘DI Nunn, I presume.’ The voice was close and behind her. She could almost feel the warmth of his breath against her neck, the small hairs rose in response and she shuddered. She was alone with him.

There was no support team. Maxine hadn’t passed on her message. Sharpe was unaware where she was or what she was doing. If this went wrong, then she was gone. She had no one to rely on but herself so she had to pull herself together because this was now life or death.

Her life.

Her death.

She spun around, dirt kicking up from below her boots.

The male was about six feet tall, dressed in jeans and a light jumper with a plain white plastic mask over his face. It looked out of place in the middle of the day and in a cemetery like this, and though his face was obscured, he nevertheless managed to make her skin crawl. His hair, she could see over the top of it, was short and dark, peppered with silver at the sides.

In his gloved hand was a large bladed knife. The silver-coloured blade currently pointing down following the line of his leg. His grip seemed relaxed.

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