Hey guys! I know its been a couple of weeks but everything has been a little hectic of late. I'll try and upload the next couple of chapters this week.

As always, thanks for you comments and reviews so far.

Disclaimer - nope they're not my characters as the BBC has already laid claim to them, but the story is all my own.

David Thompson climbed out of his car, exhausted after a long day of campaigning and speech-making. As he shut the door and straightened his tie, the now ever-present horde of photographers began taking photos and running around him like a crowd of excited school children. He groaned inwardly but fixed a smile rigidly onto his face as he acknowledged the people shoving cameras into his face and forced his way to his own front door.

'Mr Thompson, what do you have to say about the new Budget?'

'What about pay for teachers and policemen Mr Thompson, are they being cut?'

'Mr Thompson, over here'

David turned rested his hand on the doorknob and turned back to the photographers behind him.

'Goodnight gentlemen, I'm sure you'll agree I have a rather busy week ahead and would be grateful for an undisturbed night's sleep.'

He went through the front door and leant against it heavily. God, why did they have to be so bloody annoying asking the same questions over and over? His face ached from grinning like some kind of demented Cheshire cat for most of the day and he thought he may well throttle someone if they asked him about policemen's salaries one more time.

'Its nearly over David, soon we can have our lives back.'

He opened his eyes at the sound of his wife's voice. Smiling, she emerged from the living room to embrace him briefly.

'A few more weeks then you'll be Minister and we can buy a new car, have a party and celebrate.'

He shrugged out of his suit jacket and laid his briefcase on the hallway table.

'Lets hope so darling, lets hope so.'

Wtd wtd wtd wtd wtd wtd

'Tell me what you've got on the map so far Stella'

Spence stepped back to examine the board thingee as his colleague went through the locations where the three women had lived, and died.

'Right, we've got Hannah Clements in Belsize Road, Kilburn' began Stella pointing to each coloured pin in the map as she went, 'Sophie Rawlings in Malden Road, Kentish Town and Rachel Hall of Platt's Lane, Hampstead.'

'Ok, so all roughly the same area of London but still quite some distance apart' mused Spence 'and all north of the river – Boyd's going to love this.'

'Yeah, what is it with Boyd and north of the river?'

'I honestly don't know Stella' confessed Spence sheepishly 'he just seems to have a grudge against it and I don't really want to delve into his decidedly murky past and find out why.'

'Point taken'

Stella sat down in her office chair, twisting from side to side as she studied the board thingee. She'd worked on tricky cases before, but the original team seemed to have done little more than write down where the three women had lived and been found. Four years on and they were basically starting from scratch again.

'Have you read through the original files yet' she asked Spence nonchalantly, desperately hoping she would be spared the tedious task.

'Yep, but don't get too pleased about it, this is going to be a phone book and knocking on doors job'

Spence turned back to face the French-girl, and handed her the Yellow Pages for North London.

'You do the first two women, I'll do the second. We're after any background information at all that could link them in any way.'

'Yes sir' smiled Stella 'I'll report back to your Royal Highness as soon as my astounding detective skills have picked up the killer clue.'

Wtd wtd wtd wtd wtd wtd

Eve stood up and stretched her arms, slowly rolling her neck as she straightened up from the examination table. She walked over to the extractor fan and lit up a cigarette, feeling the instant relief as the nicotine filled her lungs. This case was certainly a cracker. The original team had come up with virtually nothing of use and with no exciting new evidence she had to go over each of the three bodies trying to find anything at all for the team to work on. No wonder Boyd had been in such a foul mood – Christie's little parting gift to them was nigh on impossible.

Taking one last drag on her cigarette, she switched off the fan and picked up the Dictaphone.

'Right' she began in her usual husky tones 'we have the bodies of three women of various ages between 20 and 30 years old. All had fatal amounts of Diazepam in their bloodstreams, no external bruising and markings, and no noticeable internal injuries.'

She crossed the room and perched in front of the laptop, quickly glancing at the tests currently running across the screen.

'All three had recently bathed or showered, judging by product residues on the skin and hair, within an hour prior to their deaths…'

Eve's voice tailed off as a message flashed up on the screen. She turned off the Dictaphone and leaned in for a closer look at the chemical names and quantities, checking the correlation of results for the three women.

Smiling smugly to herself she reached for the phone. Maybe they would have some new evidence to go on after all.

Wtd wtd wtd wtd wtd wtd