One murder, three dead friends, three different modus operandi - the case is closed.
Three years later, the ambitious journalist Joycelyn Riley takes on the case of her life, travels to the former crime scene and follows the murderer's trail.
The de...
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The clacking of the keyboard under my fingers, the smell of coffee and the quiet chatter of others filled me as I sat in my office that afternoon. I still had five hours until the deadline, but I was already so far ahead with my article that I could even manage to go and visit my father today.
"Joyce?" The voice of my colleague Eve interrupted the calm silence and I looked up from behind the screen. She came towards me with a swinging stride, making her red-coloured shoulder-length hair bob up and down. "The boss wants to see you." She waggled her eyebrows meaningfully. "Maybe it's about the promotion."
I smiled sadly. "Do you think so? Ralph has a better chance."
"He's a terrible journalist." She plopped down on the desk chair, which was directly opposite mine and actually belonged to Jeff. But he was taking his usual coffee break.
"Maybe." I put my computer screen on standby and stood up. "Wish me luck."
She held up both thumbs and grinned at me. "May Nilson wake up from the patriarchy today."
I smiled and made my way to the office of my boss, Gideon Nilson. It had been almost six years since I'd started at the Daily Mail and I couldn't imagine working anywhere else.
My dream of becoming a journalist for a well-known newspaper had come true and I couldn't really complain. If there wasn't the thing with my boss.
Nilson was friendly and his employees were very important to him, but it was clear to everyone here that he favoured men. I could hardly hope for a new promotion if another colleague was working towards it at the same time, regardless of who wrote the better articles.
His office was right next to reception and had milk-coloured glass walls. His nameplate was on the door and I knocked. The receptionist, Clara, gave me a hopeful look. "He's in a good mood today. Maybe you'll get lucky."
I really hoped so.
"Come in," Nilson's calm voice rang out and I stepped inside. As always, it smelled of peppermint and cool fan air. He sat behind his desk, which was made of fine dark wood, and gestured invitingly to the empty chair in front of it. "Have a seat, Joycelyn."
I followed his invitation and looked at him attentively. "You wanted to see me?"
"Indeed." He nodded and took a sip of his coffee before turning his gaze to me. "It's about the promotion you mentioned the other day."
My heart began to beat faster with excitement. Had Clara and Eve been right, was this the day Nilson got over himself and gave a promotion to a woman?
"I'm sure you've heard that Ralph Dixon is also hoping for a promotion," he continued and I nodded hesitantly.
"I have."
"Well, the thing is, I'm well aware that Ralph's articles aren't quite up to the standard of yours." He leant back. "But I don't want to be unfair and give you both the chance to convince me. You have the chance to write an investigative piece of research, regardless of the topic, and you have to convince me. The one with the best will get the promotion."
