DC Charlotte Stafford

He keeps each one floating in formaldehyde to prevent rotting. Each finger denotes a victim, their heart ripped out and replaced by symbols of their treachery. He admires his trophies weekly; to him each one of them is guilty. DC 'Charlie' Stafford is already investigating a series of escalating racist attacks, and it now seems she has a vicious serial killer on her patch. All the while he's watching, waiting...and counting.

A faithful dog lies wounded beside the mutilated body of its owner. A woman is discovered bound and gagged, dead in her own bed. Both are police officers. Both have a red rose at their side...worryingly, more will follow. Lies and accusations abound, but who is behind the murders, and why are the victims being targeted? Charlie, Hunter and the team must find the killer targeting their own, before another body is found.

A baby lies abandoned amongst the rubbish, her tiny face as white as alabaster, her body as stiff as a miniature doll. A young prostitute lies beaten, her figure lying like a mannequin on the frozen concrete, her blood spilt, her life ebbing away. As DC 'Charlie' Stafford and her boss, DI Hunter, struggle to identify the victim from the violator, their hunt brings them to the crack houses of Lambeth, littered with damaged people, their lives scarred by tragedy and violence, most broken beyond repair.

He wasn't always a killer. At first, he just wanted to talk. D.C. Charlie Stafford has an odd case on her hands. And it may be her toughest one yet. A burglar who isn't interested in valuables, the subject of Operation Greystream is a strange but smooth operator. In the dead of the night, gloved and masked, he visits the elderly. He doesn't hurt them and, if they beg, he won't take anything of real value. All he wants is conversation... and they're powerless to refuse him. But then 87-year-old Florence Briarly is found by her friend, cold to the touch and neatly, too neatly, tucked into bed.