It’s two days and three trains later and I’m standing in front of an office in London. I look up at the logo over the door and subconsciously rub the tattoo through my shirt.

After a brief exchange over the intercom I get buzzed in and make my way into the office.”Good afternoon John, I must say, I wasn’t expecting to see you again.”

“Mr, Leyton, I’m not here for the small talk, Sophie’s dead.” The kind of shock you can’t fake passes over his face. I’d been wondering if the killer might have already reported her death, but it seems that they wanted me to have to do it. “I didn’t do it.” I add, answering the unspoken question.

“You know, I didn’t expect you to make it half way.” He says whilst moving a file from one shelf to another.

“I didn’t think I’d have to.”

“Oh, You knew what you were signing.” He was right, as much as I hated it.

“Have you seen any of the others lately?”

“Now now John, you know providing information like that is against the rules. Now if there’s nothing else, good day.”