83

I WAS BACK AT JOESBURY’S DOOR, RAPPING LOUDLY, HARDLY caring who I woke up. ‘Let me in,’ I hissed, the second I heard him turning the lock. I pushed on the door, making him step back into the room.

‘What the—’ he managed.

‘We have to get back to London,’ I said. ‘Right now. Get Dana on the phone. We’ve been absolute idiots.’

‘Lacey, calm down. What the hell’s got into you?’

I pushed past him to get to the bed. The photograph of the horribly carved-up body of Mary Kelly was on the pillow. I reached out and picked it up.

‘I should have seen it,’ I said. ‘I knew she’d have a way, some way of getting to number five. She’s got her already, I bet you anything, we have to—’

Two warm hands were on my bare shoulders.

‘Right, deep breath. Stop talking.’

‘Sir, there isn’t—’

‘Shut up. Now.’ One hand was across my mouth. He was right. I had to get a grip. But Jesus, why hadn’t I seen it, why?

Carefully, reminding me of someone about to let a wild animal out of a cage, he peeled his fingers away from my mouth.

‘Slowly,’ he told me.

‘She knew we’d work it out after she killed Charlotte and Karen,’ I said. ‘Victims three and four. She knew we’d put a guard on number five.’

‘And we have,’ said Joesbury, speaking slowly. ‘Three hours ago, Jacqui Groves was fine and dandy. Are you saying she—’

‘Jacqui Groves wasn’t the one. Llewellyn never had any intention of going after her.’

Joesbury shook his head. ‘She’s the last of the mothers,’ he said.

‘The Ripper’s first four victims were women in their forties,’ I said. ‘Just like the mothers. Then he changed. He went for a younger woman. He upped his game.’

‘I still don’t see—’

‘How many people are there in the Groves family?’

Joesbury shrugged. ‘I don’t know, the mother, father, the son – what’s he called, Toby – and the – oh shit.’

He’d got it. At last. He was stepping away from me, looking for his phone.

‘Toby Groves has a sister,’ I said, just in case there was any doubt, although judging by the look on Joesbury’s face, I didn’t think there was. ‘A twin sister,’ I went on, as he picked up his phone and started to dial Dana Tulloch’s number. ‘She’s twenty-six. And I think Llewellyn has her already.’