Memento by Carolyn Glass

It was another one. Just the same as always, abducted, restrained, left to die somewhere and later dumped. But we were sure he would make a mistake soon. The intervals got shorter, the dump sites more public, we were trying to find a link between the victims, or the place he was holding them, but zilch.

As usual it was overconfidence that got him caught. He always took a souvenir, the ring finger of the left hand, complete with rings. All the victims’ families agreed there was at least one ring taken.

A very shaken jeweller tipped us off, he had been offered a ring, and he rang the secret alarm under the counter which got us there in minutes. He said he would not have realised the significance, had he not noticed the guy wresting it from a finger which he then placed back in his pocket.