‘What would I do? That’s a good question.’ She nodded. ‘I suppose … I would talk to them – as a group, I mean.’

‘Just what I was thinking.’ There was a twinkle in her eyes as she said this. ‘Talk to these girls, the Maidens, not individually – but as a group.’

‘A therapy group, you mean?’

‘Why not? Have a session with them – see what comes up.’

Mariana smiled, despite herself. ‘It’s an intriguing idea. I don’t quite know how they would respond to that.’

‘Think about it, that’s all. As you know, the best way to treat a group—’

‘—is as a group.’ Mariana nodded. ‘Yes, I see that.’

She fell silent for a moment. It was good advice – not easy to achieve, but it touched on something she actually knew about and believed in – and already she felt a little less out of her depth. She smiled gratefully. ‘Thank you.’

Ruth hesitated. ‘There’s something else. Something less easy to say … something that strikes me – regarding this man Edward Fosca. I want you to be very careful.’

‘I am being careful.’

‘Of yourself?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, presumably this is bringing up all kinds of feelings and associations for you … I’m surprised that you’ve not mentioned your father.’

Mariana looked at Ruth in surprise. ‘What’s my father got to do with Fosca?’

‘Well, they’re both charismatic men, powerful within their community – and, by the sounds of it, highly narcissistic. I wonder if you feel the same urge to win over this man, Edward Fosca, as you did your father.’

‘No.’ Mariana felt annoyed with Ruth for suggesting it. ‘No,’ she repeated. ‘And anyway, I have a very negative transference towards Edward Fosca.’

Ruth hesitated. ‘Your feelings towards your father weren’t entirely benign.’

‘That’s different.’

‘Is it? It’s still so hard for you, even now, isn’t it? – to criticise him, or acknowledge he let you down in real, fundamental ways. He never once gave you the love you needed. It took a long time for you to be able to see that, and to name it.’

Mariana shook her head. ‘Honestly, Ruth, I don’t think my father has anything to do with this.’

Ruth looked at her sadly. ‘It’s my feeling that your father is in some way central to this, as far as you’re concerned. That might not make much sense right now. But one day, perhaps, it might mean a great deal.’

Mariana didn’t know how to respond. She shrugged.

‘And Sebastian?’ said Ruth after a pause. ‘How are you feeling about him?’

Mariana shook her head. ‘I don’t want to talk about Sebastian. Not today.’

She didn’t stay for long after that. The mention of her father had cast a pall over the session, which didn’t fully disperse until she was in Ruth’s hallway.

As Mariana left, she gave the old lady a hug. She felt the warmth and affection in that hug, and tears welled up in her eyes. ‘Thank you so much, Ruth. For everything.’

‘Call me if you need me – anytime. I don’t want you to think you’re alone.’

‘Thank you.’

‘You know,’ Ruth said, after a slight hesitation, ‘you might find it helpful to talk to Theo.’

‘Theo?’

‘Why not? Psychopathy is, after all, his special subject. He’s quite brilliant. Any insights he has are bound to be useful.’

Mariana considered it. Theo was a forensic psychotherapist who had trained with her in London. Despite sharing Ruth as a therapist, they hadn’t known each other very well.

‘I’m not sure,’ she said. ‘I mean, I’ve not seen Theo in a very long time … Do you think he’d mind?’

‘Not at all. You could try and see him before you go back to Cambridge. Let me give him a ring.’

Ruth called him – and Theo said yes, of course he remembered Mariana, and he’d be happy to talk to her. They arranged to meet in a pub in Camden.

And that evening, at six o’clock, Mariana went to meet Theo Faber.

8

Mariana was first to arrive at the Oxford Arms. She got a glass of white wine while she waited.

She was curious to see Theo – but also wary. Sharing Ruth as a therapist made them a little like siblings, each coveting the attention their mother gave the other. Mariana used to feel a little jealous, even resentful, of Theo – she knew Ruth had a soft spot for him. Ruth’s voice took on a protective tone whenever she mentioned him, which had led Mariana, quite unreasonably, to concoct a fantasy for herself that Theo was an orphan. It came as a shock when both his parents appeared at their graduation, alive and well.

In truth, Theo did have a waiflike quality that Mariana was picking up on – an otherness. It had nothing to do with his build, but was entirely suggested by his manner: a kind of reticence, a slight distance from others – an awkwardness, something Mariana also recognised in herself.

Theo arrived a few minutes late. He greeted Mariana warmly. He got a Diet Coke at the bar, and joined her at the table.

He looked the same; he hadn’t changed at all. He was about forty years old, and had a slim build. He was wearing a battered corduroy jacket and a crumpled white shirt, and he smelled faintly of cigarette smoke. He had a nice face, she thought, a caring face, but there was something – what was the word? – anxious in his eyes, even haunted. And she realised that while she liked him, she wasn’t entirely comfortable around him. She wasn’t quite sure why.

‘Thank you for meeting me,’ she said. ‘It was very short notice.’

‘Not at all. I’m intrigued. I’ve been following the story, like everyone else. It’s fascinating—’ Theo quickly corrected himself. ‘I mean, it’s terrible, of course. But also fascinating.’ He smiled. ‘I’d like to pick your brains about it.’

Mariana smiled. ‘Actually – I was hoping to pick yours.’

‘Ah.’ Theo seemed surprised to hear this. ‘But you’re there, Mariana, in Cambridge. I’m not. Your insights are much more valuable than anything I can tell you.’

‘I don’t have much experience in this kind of thing – in forensics.’

‘It makes no difference, really – since every case is completely unique, in my experience.’

‘That’s funny. Julian said exactly the opposite. That every case is always the same.’

‘Julian? You mean Julian Ashcroft?’

‘Yes. He’s working with the police.’

Theo raised an eyebrow. ‘I remember Julian from the institute. There was something a bit … odd about him, I thought. A little bloodthirsty. And anyway he’s wrong – each case is quite different. After all, no one has the same childhood.’

‘Yes, I agree.’ Mariana nodded. ‘But still, you don’t think there’s anything we can look for?’

Theo sipped his Coke and shrugged. ‘Look. Say I’m the man you’re after. Say I’m extremely unwell, and highly dangerous. It’s entirely possible that I can hide all that from you. Not for an extended time, perhaps, or in a therapeutic environment – but on a superficial level, it’s very easy to present a false self to the world. Even to people we see every day.’ He played with his wedding ring for a moment, turning it around on his finger. ‘Do you want my advice? Forget who. Start with why.’

‘Why does he kill, you mean?’

‘Yes.’ Theo nodded. ‘Something about it doesn’t ring true to me. The victims – were they sexually assaulted?’

Mariana shook her head. ‘No, nothing like that.’

‘So what does that tell us?’

‘That the killing itself, the stabbing and mutilation, provides the gratification? Perhaps. I don’t think it’s that simple.’

Theo nodded. ‘Neither do I.’

‘The pathologist said the cause of death was a severed throat – and the stabbing took place post-mortem.’

‘I see,’ Theo said, looking intrigued. ‘Which means there is a certain performative aspect to all this. It’s staged – for the benefit of the audience.’

‘And we are the audience?’

‘That’s right.’ Theo nodded. ‘Why is that, do you think? Why does he want us to see this horrific violence?’

Mariana thought for a moment. ‘I think … he wants us to believe they were killed in a frenzy – by a serial killer – a madman with a knife. But in fact, he was entirely calm and controlled – and these murders were deliberately and carefully planned.’

‘Exactly. Which means we’re dealing with someone much more intelligent – and much more dangerous.’

Mariana thought of Edward Fosca, and nodded. ‘Yes, I think so.’

‘Let me ask you something.’ Theo peered at her. ‘When you saw the body up close, what’s the first thing that came into your mind?’

Mariana blinked – and for a second, she saw Veronica’s eyes. She banished the image. ‘I – don’t know … that it was horrible.’

Theo shook his head. ‘No. That’s not what you thought. Tell me the truth. What was the first thing that came into your mind?’

Mariana shrugged, a little embarrassed. ‘Funnily enough … it was a line from a play.’

‘Interesting. Go on.’

‘The Duchess of Malfi. “Cover her face – mine eyes dazzle—”’

‘Yes.’ Theo’s eyes lit up suddenly, and he leaned forward, excited. ‘Yes, that’s it.’

‘I – I’m not sure I understand.’