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jogging route well. It had taken a varied wardrobe not to be noticed on the first three attempts, but each time, Eleanor was absorbed in her run. She probably noticed little beyond the music on her iPod.
    For the first few attempts there had been bystanders around when Eleanor jogged by. On the first day an elderly lady sat next to Vanhi on the bench and nattered on about her grandchildren. Vanhi learnt to put her handbag by her side to occupy the whole bench.
    The second day another jogger had been with Eleanor. Whether it was planned or not, Vanhi didn't know. The scant information she had been provided with didn't cover jogging partners. On the third day a homeless man had been harassing Eleanor for money, and he wasn't going to give up without a fight. He had clearly missed the fact that Eleanor was running with no bag, no pockets and only her door key around her neck.
    On the fourth try, Eleanor appeared like clockwork. She came jogging up from the south of the park, towards the north-western exit. Vanhi's pulse began to race as Eleanor neared her, faster than even on the previous days. Her hands trembled. This time no one was about, she was sure of it.
    Now that it came down to the wire Vanhi realised that she couldn't get Eleanor while she was running, and it was unlikely that she would just stop in front of her.
    As Eleanor was about to jog on by, Vanhi called out to her in a loud voice, as she knew from experience that Eleanor's iPod would be set to quite a high volume.
    'Excuse me, darling, but your shoelace is undone,' she purred in an affected southern drawl.
    Eleanor smiled and glanced downwards at her trainers. As she frowned at the obvious lie Vanhi struck, thrusting the needle into her jugular and plunging the syringe down in one movement.
    Eleanor moved to strike out at her attacker but she stumbled. A huge dose of cocaine, hundreds of pounds' worth, coursed through her veins. Her heart began to hammer in her ribcage. She was already breathing hard from the continuous jog, and it did not take long for the arrhythmia to set in as her heart rate soared. She tried to scream, but her lungs were burning from a lack of oxygen. Spots appeared before her eyes as she realised her attacker was dumping her on the bench. Where was someone, anyone, when she needed a passerby? She heard a crack as her consciousness failed her. Her key had been torn from her neck.
    Vanhi used her sleeve to pull the key off the chain. It was a cheap chain, the kind that could be bought in a hardware store rather than something more decorative. Vanhi flung the key into the lake, watching for a split second to make sure it sank before power-walking towards the south-east of the park. A run would garner attention, and a swift walk would not. She tucked the chain in her pocket to dispose of later, and escaped onto Queenstown Road.
    Minutes later she was lost among the crowd at New Covent Garden Market. Vanhi was in no rush to hurry back lest she draw attention to herself. She grabbed a burger at the market, and as she put the wrapper in the bin she slipped the chain and the spent needle in too. She resolved to walk home even though it was quite a trek. As she did so she practically whistled, thinking of the favour she was due to receive in return.
    ***
    The body was discovered about ten minutes later. An ambulance was quickly called and Eleanor rushed to the Royal London Hospital. The paramedics tried in vain to resuscitate her, but she was too far gone. They suspected drugs, but nothing they tried worked. Eleanor was pronounced dead on arrival, the latest Jane Bloggs in the city of London as she was carrying no ID.
    The hospital could not issue a death certificate. Suspected drugs deaths had to be referred to the City of London Coroner's Office as 'violent or unnatural'. Instead the attending doctor completed what is known as a Formal Notice. This would normally be given to the next of kin, but as the deceased was a Jane Bloggs this was not