Four months ago . . .

The moon was at its lowest ebb and this was a secluded corner of the cemetery. The night sky was cloudless but it was still very dark. Jim stood for a moment, letting his eyes get used to the gloom. All the better to see the grave, to admire its beauty.

It was the third one he’d chosen and he knew it was going to be the last. He was a loyal person, after all, and he didn’t want to spread himself too thinly. It was the headstone that attracted him, it always was. He liked a well kept and perfectly shaped plot, but it was the headstone that really did it for him.

The headstone had to be ornate and quite unique, without too much ageing or wear. He wasn’t interested in anything too weathered, or utterly dull. If there was another like it, anywhere in the cemetery, then you could forget it. And it had to have a carved angel on it. Some men liked blonde hair, big butts or long legs, Jim liked angels.

He’d been flirting with the grave for a while, taking any oppo
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