Francis stood at the end of the wooden walkway and stared out into the calmness the lake evoked. A soft breeze lifted his hair and blew it back from his face. Why more people didn’t come here was beyond him. Something about the water just ebbs away all sense of worry, anger, upset and even confusion.

Francis had been angry for a while, but visiting the lake made him feel better.

He walked back to his car, a rusty VW Golf that he had worn to the ground. He didn’t know much about cars, but knew a lot about people. There were a few thumps from the boot and a muffled scream as the car rocked from side to side.

Francis smiled - one of those lingering smiles that lifts the corners of the mouth but doesn’t quite reach the eyes. After this, he only needed to find two more.

As he opened the boot, a foul scent of urine rose up. Great - now he would have to put more effort into cleaning his car. His victim squirmed like a fish out of water, but there wasn’t much else he could do with his ankles and wrists bound with electrical tape. Another scent filled the air - fear.

Francis grabbed the man in his boot by the scruff of the neck and hoisted him out, dropping him to the dry mud with a thud. He dragged him across the wooden planks of the walkway, every now and then his clothing getting caught and having to tug a bit harder. He forgot how strenuous this activity was.

As he reached the end, Francis breathed in deeply, closed his eyes and let his breath out. He stretched his neck from side to side, a click and a sigh of relief. Francis glared down at the pathetic mess by his feet, leaned over and pulled a hunting knife from inside his boot. He smiled as the man’s eyes widened and his body wriggled with more vigour.

“You have a choice, Matt. You can either allow me to carve out your guts - if you have any - or you can simply jump into the water. I have added weights to your boots so you’ll sink right down.”

Tears spilled out of Matt’s eyes as he mumbled his pleas. Strange how they have all reacted so similarly. Francis would ask one more question, as he had with the two before Matt.

“Do you recognise me?” Francis sat down and observed Matt’s brows furrow, the slowing down of the wriggling, the realisation that karma had caught up with him.

Francis was pretty sure he could hear muffled apologies - but it was too late. As he stood, he grabbed under Matt’s shoulder and pulled him to standing as best he could. He pointed the knife towards his stomach and ran the blade along the top of belt line. “So, shall I carve you, or shall I drop you?”

Defeat crept into Matt’s eyes as he glanced across the water.

Francis shoved him into the lake, cold splashes sprayed his face as Matt hit the water. He watched the bubbles frantically popping along the surface until they stopped, until the ripples slowed. How many other secrets are hiding in the depths of this lake?

The calmness returned, and Francis slipped the knife back into his boot. Three down, two more to go… no-one gets away with murder.