It's Thursday evening the 14th of January 2016, and there's a knock on Sadie Hartley's front door.

It doesn't make sense though because she's not expecting anyone.

Sadie opens up the door, the cold winter air hitting her face and she's met by the view of a woman standing there holding flowers, chrysanthemums.

The woman isn't a courier, she's not dressed in any kind of uniform, but she is here to give Sadie the flowers.

Sadie hesitates.

There's a moment where confusion flickers across her face.

She wasn't expecting anything. No delivery, no special occasion. But the woman smiles,

confirms the woman's name is Sadie and that the flowers are for her and so Sadie takes them.

What she doesn't know.

What Sadie can't possibly know is that this isn't kindness.

It's rehearsal.

A test run.

A way of confirming her face, her doorway, her routine.

Those flowers are not a gift.

They are a marker.

Just days later, another knock will come.

This is Red Rum, stories about the true victims of crime. I upload a video episode on Mondays and a podcast exclusive on Thursdays, so make sure you're subscribed so you never miss an episode.

At 60 years old, Sadie Hartley had a full life.

She was brought up in a council house in Nottinghamshire and had since moved on, building

an impressive career and was also a mother of two daughters and a son, by now adult children,

who she was extremely close to.

And it's clear she was fiercely proud of them too,

...