She crouched beneath a stump, her extremities twitching as the sun set orange and blue beyond the lace of iron-black trees. ‘What is it that you told him?’ ‘Nothing, miss, I swear. She had always wondered when they would start being able to trace her kills, with their expanding systems of criminal databases and computers, and now it was starting to happen. She launched into a stuffy Partita 89 and played it too fast. She grasped at the right one, massaging where his grip had been and Gerald hoped he had not bruised her. She gathered up the chain, revealing a locket which had lain hidden in her bosom.
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