"So, Jane Doe, you kept your promise."

Jane noted that the voice was breathless and disguised. "Yes. Why don't you come out, and we can talk?" Jane peered into the darkness of the warehouse, but she could only see a vague shape in the shadows. "You asked me to come. You said you have information about the serial killer."

"You're alone?"

"Yes," she lied. "Please come over here. I'd prefer not to call out to you."

The man moved a few steps towards her, but stayed in the shadows. "I'm glad you came alone, as requested, Jane Doe."

Jane's nerves tingled down her back. You don't know, mate, but Steve is outside! The stocky figure moved another step closer. At that instant, Jane realized why she could not see his face. He wore a dark balaclava. She feigned nonchalance as she spoke. "What do you want to tell me?"

The hoarse voice echoed around the empty warehouse. "I know who you're looking for. But I can't tell you his name or it will be the end of me."

"We can give you protection--"

"I don't want protection, Inspector, I just want you to know that this man is clever--he targets prostitutes."

"We know that already--"

"He thinks they are all trash! All of them are trash! He must be stopped--he'll kill again."

An eerie silence followed. Jane's heart pounded in her chest. Her mouth was dry and her voice croaked, "What's your name?" He did not answer. She steeled herself and asked, "What do you know about this killer?" She needed to feel the cool comfort of her gun that was nestled in her handbag, but resisted the temptation, not wanting to scare him away.

The hoarse voice repeated, "Trash! All trash!"

"You're not telling me what I need to know."

There was a noise outside the warehouse as Steve bumped into something in the dark.

"You're not alone!" the man snarled, and spun away.

Jane grabbed for his arm, but the bulky figure was surprisingly nimble on his feet. She managed only to snag his jacket sleeve. He jerked free, then shoved her backwards into one of the metal roof poles. Her head hit the pole with a thud. Surprisingly, there was no pain at first, but as she crumpled, warm sticky blood oozed down her face.

Her assailant turned and ran.

Although dizzy and weak, she managed to call out for her partner. She heard him in pursuit, then yelling at the retreating man. A moment later, Steve was at her side.

"Steve?" she croaked, then dry-retched onto the floor as nausea and pain overcame her.

Strong, but gentle arms went around her. "It's okay, Boss, everything's okay. I've called for an ambulance. You'll be fine, Boss--Boss?"

Jane slipped into unconsciousness.