Among Amanda Kleril's belongings, Mister Wither found a diary. In there he learned that Kleril since childhood had suffered from the fear of being alone. Her husband had been a tradesman, who had to travel a lot. These periods of time where he was gone, tore her apart, until she finally found a way to always keep him close.

From this moment on she found out that killing made loneliness go away. She used the knowledge about taxidermy, that she had gained from her father, to create new companions for her. Finally she thirsted for a challenge and so she decided to call in a new victim from the outside. A small town police officer.

After her death, the Swindon Police informed the Crown and it's representative in Swindon, Duke Greenhall, ordered them under the threat of treason, to keep silent about this affair. Officially Sergeant Kleril had been the final victim in the fight against the Skinner, next to Frye and McGill.

With the Police Force at an all time low, Lieutenant Mijan rose to the rank of Sergeant, regardless of his lack in leadership skills and the common prejudices against people from the colonies.

Despite everything he had seen, Wither decided to stay in Swindon, for the Police there needed him now more then ever. Nevertheless, from now on the silence of the the night terrified him and didn't let him sleep. But then he met Daisy. In order to not be alone at night, Wither bought her at the dog shelter. From then on, the silence was no more. It was only afterwards, that he discovered the irony in that.

Still there was one thing that bothered Wither. Every day he entered the police station, he saw a big framed picture of Amanda Kleril in the entry hall. A celebration of her martyr's death. It made him sick. So one day he decided that at least a quantum of justice had to be done, and once more he found himself in Clovers office.

"So, what will it be today, Mister Peeler?", she asked.

"I have something for you. Something I need to get off my chest."

"Oh, you're selling? Look at you, getting your hands dirty like the rest of us."

"I don't want any money. I want justice to be done."

With that, Wither handed her an envelope. Taking another sip from her whiskey, she opened it. While she read the content, Wither saw how her cocky smile froze in place and her grip tightened around the glass.

"Thank you, Mister Wither. Tell Benny that your drinks are on the house to night."

It was clear that she wanted him to leave. So he nodded and turned around. But when he closed the door behind him, he remained for another second and listened. Inside the office glass shattered.

"Damn it, Mandy!", he heard Clover sob. "Damn you."

A month later, Wither stood in front of the photographs of his colleagues. He hadn't known McGill very well, but he presumed that the station had gone a lot more quiet since he was gone. Wither was sure that he and Frye had been good people. At least Frye had had the mercy of a quick death. She was the only of the Skinner's victims that had been shot. The more he thought about it, the stranger it seemed. Kleril had had plenty of opportunities to shoot her victims, not least when she had been right in front of him, holding a shotgun. Still she had always used the same weapons. So why had Frye been shot? What was he missing?

Puzzled, his look wandered around the entry hall and met the gaze of Anna Crissly. She stood behind the counter, looked right back at him and smiled.