Pip almost sank to her knees, but a new thought caught her in time, and the moon again, glinting on something in the front passenger seat. Yes, the DT Killer did know things like that, that’s why they’d never caught him. And that’s why he must have used a burner phone to call his victims, otherwise his connection to the case would have been discovered right after the first victim. Pip knew this now because she could see it, right there. Discarded in the front passenger seat. A small, boxy Nokia, like hers, the screen reflecting the moonlight to catch her eye, showing her the way. Pip opened the car door and stared down at it. Jason Bell had a burner phone. Paid in cash, untraceable to her, or Ravi, unless someone found the phone. But they wouldn’t find it; she would destroy it after.

Pip reached down, her fingers alighting on its cold plastic edge. She pressed the middle button and the green back-lit screen glared up at her. It still had battery. Pip glanced up and thanked the moon, almost crying with relief.

The numbers on the screen told her it was 6:47 p.m. That was it, that was all. She’d been in the boot of that car for days, in that storeroom for months, trapped inside the tape for years, and yet it had all happened in under three hours. 6:47 p.m.: a normal early evening in September, with a pink-tinged twilight and a chill in the breeze, and a dead body behind her.

Pip navigated through the menu to check the recent call list: at 3:51 p.m., this phone had received a call from No Caller ID, from her. And right before that, it had called Pip’s number. She would have to destroy the phone anyway, because of that connection between her and the dead man on the floor over there. But this was it; her path to Ravi, to help.

Pip typed Ravi’s number in the keypad, but her thumb hesitated over the call button. She backspaced and deleted it, replacing it with the landline for his house. That was better, less of a direct link to him, if they ever found the burner phone. They won’t find the burner phone.

Pip clicked the green button and held the small phone to her ear.

It rang. Only through the phone this time. Three chimes and then a click. Rustling.

‘Hello, Singh residence,’ said a bright, high voice. It was Ravi’s mum.

‘Hi, Nisha, it’s Pip,’ she said, her voice rasping at the edges.

‘Oh, there you are, Pip. Ravi’s been looking for you. Over-worrying as usual, my little sensitive boy,’ she laughed. ‘I hear you’re coming over for dinner tonight? Mohan’s insisting we play Articulate. He’s already bagsied you for his team, apparently.’

‘Um.’ Pip cleared her throat. ‘I’m actually not sure I’m going to be able to make it tonight. Something’s come up. I’m so sorry.’

‘Oh no, that’s a shame. Are you OK, Pip? You sound a little strange.’

‘Ah, yeah, no, I’m fine. Just have a bit of a cold, that’s all.’ She sniffed. ‘Um, is he there? Ravi?’

‘Yes, yes, he is. Two seconds.’

Pip heard her calling his name.

And in the background, she heard the distant sound of his voice. Pip sank down into the gravel, her eyes glazing. It wasn’t so long ago she thought she’d never hear his voice again.

‘It’s Pip!’ she heard Nisha shout, and Ravi’s voice grew nearer: nearer and frantic.

Rustling as the phone changed hands.

‘Pip?’ he said down the line, like he didn’t believe it. And Pip hesitated a moment, refilling herself with his voice, welcoming it home. She’d never take it for granted, never again. ‘Pip?’ he said, louder.

‘Y-yes, it’s me. I’m here.’ It was hard to push the words out, around the lump in her throat.

‘Oh my god,’ Ravi said, and she could hear him thundering up the stairs to his room. ‘Where the fuck have you been? I’ve been calling you for hours. Your phone’s been going straight to voicemail. You were supposed to keep checking in.’ He sounded angry. ‘I called Nat and she said you didn’t even go round there. I’ve just got back from yours, seeing if you were at home, and your car was at home but you weren’t, so your parents are probably worried now because they thought you were with me. I was literally minutes from calling the police, Pip. Where the fuck have you been?’

He was angry, but Pip couldn’t help smiling, holding the phone tighter to her ear, to bring him closer. She had disappeared and he had... he had looked for her.

‘Pip?!’

She could imagine the look on his face: stern eyes and a cocked eyebrow, waiting for her to explain herself.

‘I-I love you,’ she said, because she never said it enough and it was important. She didn’t know when she’d last said it, and if she said it again, that wouldn’t be the last time either. ‘I love you. I’m sorry.’

Ravi hesitated, and his breath changed. ‘Pip,’ he said, the hard edge gone from his voice. ‘Are you OK? What is it? Something’s wrong, I can tell. What’s wrong?’

‘I just didn’t know when I last told you.’ She wiped her eyes. ‘It’s important.’

‘Pip,’ he said, steadying her. ‘Where are you? Tell me where you are right now.’

‘Can you come here?’ she asked. ‘I need you. I need help.’

‘Yes,’ he said firmly. ‘I will come right now. Just tell me where you are. What’s happened? Is it something to do with DT? Do you know who he is?’

Pip stared back at Jason’s feet, hanging out the doorway. She sniffed and she focused, turning back.

‘It’s... I’m at Green Scene. Jason Bell’s company, in Knotty Green. Do you know where it is?’

‘Why are you there?’ His voice higher now, confused.

‘Just – Ravi, I don’t know how long the battery lasts on this phone. Do you know where it is?’

‘What phone are you using?’

‘Ravi!’

‘Yes, yes,’ he said, shouting now too, though he didn’t know why. ‘I know where it is, I can look it up.’

‘No, no, no,’ Pip said quickly. She needed him to understand, without her saying it. Not on the phone. ‘No, Ravi, you can’t use your phone to get here. You need to leave your phone at home, OK? Do not bring it with you. Do not bring it.’

‘Pip, wh—’

‘You have to leave your phone at home. Look at the way on Google Maps now, but do not type Green Scene into your search browser, whatever you do. Just search on the map.’

‘Pip, what’s going –’

She interrupted him, something else occurring to her. ‘No, wait. Ravi, you can’t drive on any big roads. No A-roads. Not any. You have to take the back roads, small roads only. Big roads have traffic cams. You can’t be seen on any traffic cams. Back roads only. Ravi, do you understand?’ Her voice was urgent now, the shock gone, left behind in that room with the dead body.

She heard the click of his trackpad in the background.

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I’m just looking now. Yep, that way. Down Watchet Lane, into Hazlemere,’ he muttered under his breath. ‘Down those residential roads, take a right down that B-road. Yeah,’ he said to her again. ‘Yeah, I can find it. I’ll write this down. Back roads only, leave phone at home. I’ve got it.’