The room was windowless with white tiled walls. A drainage channel ran the length of the white tiled floor. A room of coldly clinical cleanliness, designed for one purpose only. Death. Death by guillotine.

Present: the hooded executioner, two guards and a chaplain - frightened men all of them. The prisoner was dead, head severed, blood running into the gutter. The end of a monster and a hideous series of crimes.

Except that no on there could, or ever would, forget those chillingly blasphemous last words: "On the third day I shall live, and you will fear my coming."