Page 3 of The Serial Killer’s Sister (The Serial Killer’s Daughter #3)

Ross’s hand takes mine, gently pulling it away from my mouth.

I feel a sting, then the bubble of blood oozes and drips down my chin.

I hadn’t realised I’d been picking the skin on my lip – a childhood habit left over from the anxiety and stress I suffered while at the home.

I’ve tried hard to eradicate it. I dab it quickly with the tissue Ross has whipped from the box on the table.

‘Are you okay for me to continue?’ DI Walker asks. I nod, while inwardly screaming NO! ‘Your brother is wanted in connection with five murders—’

‘Five?’ I blink rapidly, shaking my head. ‘ Five ?’ I repeat.

‘Yes, I know it’s a lot to take in.’ DI Walker leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. ‘They’ve all taken place over a two-and-a-half-year period, with one female being killed on two specific dates each year. The fifth occurred a few months ago.’

A serial killer . Henry is a serial killer .

The words, spoken in my own voice, loop in my head over and over like an annoying earworm.

The earworm continues to drown out the voices of Ross and the detective and the dizzying sensation it’s creating makes lying down the only good option.

Not here, though. I need to go to bed. I bend forwards, readying to stand, but Ross’s hand firmly pushes down on my thigh, preventing my escape.

‘They were committed in different counties, which is why it’s taken a while to link them,’ DI Walker says.

I’m vaguely aware this isn’t the beginning of the conversation – I’ve missed a chunk of it, and I try to gather myself so I can focus on what’s going on.

‘The evidence we’ve gathered shows they are connected, though; we’re not disclosing it for obvious reasons, but each murder shares the same signature.

’ It’s as if I’m on a mobile phone going through a tunnel; the words are crackling, fading in and out; fragmented like a Dalek’s voice.

I draw in air through my nostrils, but the nausea creeping through my gut only intensifies.

I haven’t seen Henry in years. We didn’t part on the best terms, but despite it all – despite everything we went through – him turning out to be a serial killer feels a step too far.

‘I – I don’t … I can’t.’ I shake my head, but the fog doesn’t clear. ‘Why are you here, telling me this?’

DI Walker smiles thinly. His expression softens and he leans closer to me, like he’s about to explain a complex idea to a child. ‘We hoped you’d had contact with him. Knew where he might be.’

‘That would make things easier,’ I say. DI Walker gives a disappointed nod, aware my answer means I don’t. And I really don’t. I’ve heard nothing from him, and I’ve not tried to contact him. There’s simply been no need.

‘One of the dates your brother has committed murders on is the fifteenth of February.’ DI Walker’s eyes are on my face, watching for my response. It’s immediate; a reaction I’m unable to control. My eyes widen and every muscle in my body tenses.

‘That’s my birthday.’

‘Yes.’ He purses his lips. Nods again. When I don’t offer anything else, he checks his notes. ‘The other is the thirteenth of May,’ he says, raising his eyes to meet mine.

My heart stutters, but thankfully my outward reaction is masked by the previous shock.

‘Four days from now,’ Ross adds, helpfully.

‘We don’t yet know the significance of this other date and we’re running out of time, Anna.’

I can’t breathe. My lungs are paralysed; no air seems to be able to enter them. I push Ross’s hand from my leg and get up. Dizziness instantly overwhelms me, the room spins, and DI Walker and Ross blur into one before my eyes close and there’s nothing but black silence.