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all in little over a week was a major situation in a small town like Bidbury. The offices of the local paper were in an excited frenzy. Last week’s front page was a councilor caught with his fingers in the till, and that had been one of the better lead stories. Jeff, the editor, had thought it was a gift from the gods when one of his reporters uncovered the scandal. He couldn’t quite believe what was happening now. He knew that this was big enough to attract national interest and he was determined to make sure that the Bidbury Herald led the way. A serial killer in his back yard, a provincial editor could wait a life time and never get such a lucky break. He sipped his coffee while he waited impatiently; he clicked his pen compulsively and kept his eye on the door.
    When it finally opened he jumped with excitement and spilt the coffee splattering it down his shirt. ‘What ‘ave we got?’
    The man who entered was young, mid-twenties at most. Jeff liked them young. They were more eager and hungry. They took risks, dug deeper and crossed lines. They put ambition before caution and often viewed morality as a movable object, easily pushed out of the way when required.
    Jeff dabbed at his shirt without looking at what he was doing. His eyes were fixed on Dan.
    Dan grinned and crossed the room to the desk. ‘Two dead, third one should have been. Same killer, single shot in the head...’
    Jeff wasn’t impressed. ‘Now tell me something I don’t know.’
    Dan waved a piece of paper at his boss. ‘I have the name and address of the lucky bastard who survived the encounter.’
    ‘Fucking fantastic.’ Jeff said excitedly. He took the paper and glanced at the name, then handed it back. ‘You waiting for an invitation?’
    Dan hurried to the door. Jeff called after him. ‘Do I dare ask how?’
    Dan turned around and shook his head and grinned. ‘Best not to, boss.’
    Jeff watched him leave. Then he switched his computer on and started to do some research of his own.

    An incident room had been set up and details of the victims were decorating the boards. A small team of detectives were assembled and waiting when Matt walked in. Jen was standing at the front of the room and glanced up at the clock as he walked towards her. He felt a surge of anger but managed to contain it. She was right, he was late. Only two minutes, but still, a keen dedicated detective should be one step ahead of the team. Like her.
    Matt reached the front and got straight into it. ‘James Tate is a very lucky man. This killer, until now has been ruthless and meticulous. No sign of a break in again. We need to check who has keys, past and present. Workmen, cleaners...’
    ‘Something links these men together.’ Jen said interrupting. ‘Check out their past. What schools they went too, what clubs they belonged too, who they dated. We need a motive. Who wants them dead and why?’
    Jen glanced across at Matt. He forced himself to stay calm and in control. He nodded his agreement.
    ‘Send someone to talk to his ex-wife and boyfriend, check they have alibis. We had anything back from forensics on the lipstick?’ he asked.
    ‘Not a full report. But I made a call first thing to chase it. Don’t think we’ll get anything from that. It’s a cheap over the counter brand. But the colour is an old one, obsolete now.’ She said.
    ‘So who would buy or wear it?’
    ‘Well it’s cheap, so maybe a teenager, although the shade is not an in colour. Maybe a prostitute or someone older with a stash of unused lipsticks.’
    ‘I suppose you can buy job lots of old stock on eBay.’ He said, ‘check it out, there must be a trail somewhere, there always is, you just have to find the breadcrumbs.’
    ‘I’ll get the tech guys looking into it for me.’ Jen said.
    Matt walked away, he felt like a dinosaur beside her young, excited ambition. It was an uncomfortable feeling, she was the next generation and he was facing extinction.
    He headed for Blades to