'Can we come in, Mrs Bradley?'
'The woman shook her head nervously. 'I'm having my Weetabix.'
Delaney would have responded but his phone rang, startling him out of his introspection, and he snapped it open. 'Delaney.'
'Jack, it's Diane.'
'I'm on it.'
'Never mind that. Where are you?'
'Chalk Farm, why?'
'Good. I need you to get to Camden Town.'
'What's going on?'
'We think there might be another one. And it's bad, Jack. Really bad.'
'Give me the address.' He listened as Diane gave him the details and closed the phone. 'Come on, Sally, we're out of here.' He turned back to the old lady. 'We'll be back.'
They hurried back down the stairs and Delaney pulled out his phone again, hitting the speed dial. It rang for a few times, again, and then cut into Kate's voice message again. He snapped the phone angrily shut. 'Where the bloody hell is she?'
'Sir?'
Delaney hadn't realised he had spoken aloud. 'Don't worry about it, Sally, just get us to Camden.'
Just as a human face is a map, in most cases, of the kind of life a person has had – sad, happy, hopeful, despairing – so a building has a personality every bit as decipherable. Grosvenor Court in Camden Town was built in an era that had more hope than it deserved. Hope that experience soon wiped off its facade, just as the bright green paint was now faded, scabby and sore.
The apartments were built on three sides of a square, with a car park in the middle. A single police car blocked the back entrance. Sally pulled Delaney's Saab to a groaning stop alongside the police car and they both got out.
It wasn't even lunchtime yet but Delaney was yawning expansively. He had hardly slept the night before. After Kate had left him in the Holly Bush and wouldn't answer her door to him he had gone home, where, for the first time in four years, he didn't even contemplate drinking himself into his usual oblivion. But the night had brought no relief in sleep, as he knew it wouldn't. It was part of the price he had to pay.
Danny Vine was waiting at the bottom of the stairs with Bob Wilkinson and the police photographer, Delaney couldn't remember his name, and a couple of SOCOs. They were waiting for Delaney to see the scene before recording every detail. Bob nodded at Sally and Delaney as they approached. 'I hope you haven't had breakfast.' He wasn't joking.
Delaney didn't reply. He hadn't eaten since the bacon sandwich he had had for lunch yesterday, but sensed this wasn't the time for small talk. He could see it in the pale faces of the three men watching him.
'Who called it in?'
'The cleaner. She walked in on it. Staggered back and fell down the stairs. Nearly broke her neck. She came round in the ambulance and the paramedics alerted us.'
Delaney walked up the stairs and two uniformed policemen at the top stood aside. Their faces were drained, one was shaking visibly. Delaney pushed open the door and stepped into the darkness of the room, Sally following closely behind.
Delaney's eyes didn't need time to adjust to see what lay on the floor. What had once been a human being was now rendered into a thing of slaughter and his world tilted on its axis once more. Delaney's heart felt like it had been gripped by a hand made of frozen steel and he gasped out loud. He fought to catch his breath. He wanted to tear his eyes away from what he was looking at but couldn't. Among all the blood
