„It is after midnight in Central Park in Burnaby, British Columbia. The mourners and the police have all gone home and the car park is empty.
Pools of halogen light bathe the entrance to the trail, marked by a boom gate, in the southeast corner of the park. The only sound is the incessant buzz of nearby electrical transformers, amplified by the stillness of the night. There are tennis courts and a pitch-and-putt golf course close by, and stark white tower blocks across the road. You can even see a couple of night-owl residents inside.
But take just a few steps beyond the boom gate, down the trail that leads towards the murder scene, and the darkness swiftly closes around you.“ (…)