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5.45 A.M.

‘Is the boss bringing the box back?’ Penn asked.

Stacey raised an eyebrow. ‘You really that desperate to see a piece of sliced-off skin?’

They both shuddered at the same time.

The boss had said it had been removed using a knife with some kind of serrated edge, and Stacey knew she would never cut bread again without thinking of it.

‘Read it out again, Penn,’ she said.

She closed her eyes as he said the words.

‘“The rails around the aged mound turn crimson one hour before sunrise. Find my next by 6 a.m. or…”’

‘What rails, what’s an aged mound and what the hell has sunrise got to do with it?’ she asked.

‘What if the crimson relates to blood?’ Penn asked.

‘Makes sense,’ Stacey said, opening her eyes. ‘So, is he saying that Hiccup’s blood will be spilled one hour before sunrise?’

‘Which is in precisely forty-five minutes,’ Penn offered.

Stacey cursed her foggy brain. It felt like her thoughts were dripping with treacle.

‘Rails, rails, rails at six o clock,’ Stacey said as though repeating the words would set them free.

‘Aged mound,’ Penn said, pacing the floor. ‘What’s an aged mound?’

He stopped walking. ‘Old Hill, train station, rails.’

Stacey’s heart caught in her throat.

He was going to tie Hiccup to the rails.

She reached for the phone.

She was wide awake now.