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Chris making his way toward her from the bathroom.

“Really makes you wonder how sick people can be.” He stepped over the threshold, entering the living room.

“Hmm, I done a little bit of research,” Madeline confirmed. “Seems that it’s been happening for a while. Many are unsolved. And the cases have picked up over the last few months.”

“Don’t let it worry you. You’ll be safe. Amsterdam’s generally a safe place.” Chris smiled at her. “Everyone’s too stoned to think about committing crimes.”

Madeline let out a laugh at Chris’ humour. “Is that right?”

“So why are you in Amsterdam?” Chris asked her. “What part of the UK are you from?”

“I’m from London. I’m here on a job swap, well, sabbatical you could call it. I’m a journalist working for De Telegraaf.”

Chris raised an eyebrow in Madeline’s direction. “Wow, okay.”

Madeline felt him eye her closely. He rubbed a shadow of a beard on his face as if in contemplation.

“I’d love to speak to you again. I’ve got to get to my next appointment, so I can’t stay long.”

Madeline avoided his eye contact and searched for the right words, “Errr I dunno I—”

“As friends, that’s all, don’t worry,” Chris cut in to reassure her.

Madeline looked up at him. “All right. It’s not like I’ve made many friends so far. Where’s your phone?”

Chris pulled it out from his pocket and handed it to Madeline, and she typed in her number.

“I better go, I’ll talk to you soon, Madeline. Thanks for the coffee.” Chris gulped the last of it down and headed toward his tool bag.

“Sure, no problem. Speak to you soon. Thanks again for fixing the leak.”

Madeline saw Chris out of her home, then glanced at her watch.

Hmm, no point heading to the office now.

After Chris left her apartment, she moved back to her laptop. The face of Tess Van Dijik, reported missing just two weeks ago, stared back at her.

Her phone buzzed, vibrating across the table. She pulled up the message.

—Lovely to meet you.

—It’s crazy to cross paths like this again!

—It’s a message from the universe.

—Speak soon. This is my number. Chris.

Madeline smiled, but she tried not to get too caught up with thoughts about Chris.

The afternoon’s events were on her mind. As she read, she learned another woman from the Red Light district had turned up dead. The high number of unsolved cases didn’t sit right with her.

I better see what’s up with this latest one, she thought.

Grabbing her bag, coat, scarf, and her reporter’s note pad, she headed out the door, ready to pound the pavement for clues.

4

Dig Deep

Madeline Sloane

Madeline made her way over to Van Nijenrodeweg via bus. She jumped off at her stop into the chilly air. With her hands buried in her pockets to shield from the cold, she walked a few meters over to Amsterdamse Bos park. Once there, she noticed the area was busy with uniformed officials with Politie written across their vests.

Standing by the gated entrance to the woodland area, she accessed the situation.

The Politie were everywhere. To her, it appeared as if they were questioning passers-by.

She assumed this could have only been about the woman’s body that showed up in the Bos. Her gaze slowly moved over the scene, scanning to see if there were any other local news reporters with the same idea as her—to gather any information possible for the following day’s headlines. With no one in sight that looked like a journalist, she ducked into the Bos unnoticed.

Once through the gate, an anxious feeling pooled in the pit of her stomach. Quickly she walked up the pathway lined with trees and grass on either side.

A cool breeze rustled the trees, and a few brown leaves fell and landed in her path. As she walked along, the autumn leaves crunched under her heavy winter boots.

Up ahead by a tree, she saw the familiar tape that sealed off the area where the woman’s body must have been found. She noted the forensic team dusting down the area. Cameras flashed while a few officers looked as if they were searching the area.

A woman she recognised in a black suit, black fedora hat, and loafers stood to one side surrounded by a team of men. She spoke to a uniformed officer directly as the others took notes.

Madeline approached her.

“Hey, Detective Janssen,” said Madeline. “What happened?”

The tall blonde turned her attention from the officer to her.

“Madeline how did you get back here?” she demanded.

“I came by as soon as the news broke.” She ignored the detective’s question. “Who was she?”

Madeline felt her heart sink as Janssen rolled her eyes at her.

“You know I can’t talk to the press,” Janssen said. “This is a crime scene. The press aren’t meant to be here.”

Madeline moved her eyes over to the taped off area and nodded her head in the same direction. “There’s been so many of these cases over the last few months,” she said. “I’m here to help.”

“No, Madeline.” Janssen held up a hand of warning. “The press is never here to help. All you want is gossip—to see who can sell the most papers.”

Janssen dismissed her, then moved over to the taped off area, taking long strides. She signalled for her team of officers to follow her.

Madeline watched them walk off and sucked her teeth. She decided not to piss Janssen off, even though she wasn’t impressed with the job the Politie had done to close the unsolved cases. She had crossed paths with Detective Zoe Janssen on more than one occasion.

When she first arrived in Amsterdam came to mind. She had tried to report on a bank robbery for the De Telegraaf newspaper.

Yeah, that first meeting wasn’t pretty, Madeline chuckled at the memory.

Janssen had an attitude with her and saw her as more of a hindrance than helpful.

Well, I’m here again, Janssen, she laughed to herself. The shadow you can’t shake.

From where she stood, she looked around for another source she could gather some information from. She spotted a uniformed officer, who stood back,

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