“So, what do you get out of all of this?” Alec asked, feeling he should have started the conversation with that question and wanting to know his potential benefactor’s motives in case a double-cross was on the horizon.

  “I get a particular pain in the arse taken out of play,” the benefactor explained, picking up the knife and sawing through the rope.

  Shortly after the meeting, Alec had met with Detective Sergeant Jeff Rowan, who would be working with him to apply pressure on their single target. “You push from the outside,” the benefactor outlined. “DS Rowan will push from the inside.”

  Communication between the two was kept at a minimum on a need-to-know basis.

  Which alerted Alec when his mobile started ringing as he walked down the street.

  “Don’t come back to the house,” DS Rowan demanded hurriedly. “They’re onto you.”

  14

  DS Rowan had never been a religious person. But he was sure if there was a moment when he’d damned himself to hell, it was this.

  While DC Hussein was busy cataloguing evidence, DS Rowan had excused himself outside, knowing that the killer could appear around the corner at any minute. “Listen to me,” he hissed into the phone. “Don’t come back to the house. They’re onto you.”

  “What?” the voice asked with frustration. “How the hell is that possible?”

  “I don’t know,” the sergeant replied, unwilling to throw his partner under the bus. “But they’re at your temporary residence, and they’re turning the place upside down. So, you need to get yourself hidden.”

  He waited to hear what the killer was going to do next. “All of my equipment is there,” he exclaimed angrily. “All of my fingerprints are all over that shit!”

  “Well, what exactly do you expect me to do?” Jeff fired back, stepping outside and looking as a team of forensic officers arrived on the scene. “Wave a magic wand and make it all go away?”

  “You know our mutual friend isn’t going to be too happy about this,” the killer exclaimed, trying to sound threatening in the face of defeat.

  “Well, what would you have me do?” Jeff repeated, the answer being obvious.

  The phone went dead and Jeff knew that the killer was now plotting his revenge.

  The question was what form that revenge would take.

  DI Leah West was now standing outside, taking a breather. Jonesy came out to greet her, his face solemn. “You going to tell me what the hell that was all about?”

  “It was Charlotte’s voice,” she stammered, going over the tone in her head.

  “Charlotte’s dead!” Jonesy snapped, clearly at the end of his patience. “She died over a decade ago. We know that this is just an elaborate bullshit artist! I would have thought you could keep your head on in front of a witness!”

  Those words awoke something primal in Leah, a sense of betrayal. She expected to face a challenge from people. But not from Jonesy. “When you were struggling with your PTSD and you were a bundle of nerves, I stood by you, thick and thin!”

  It was a cheap trick, and she regretted it the moment she said the words.

  She expected Jonesy to fire back in anger, almost wanting him to.

  Instead, he looked a little deflated. “I know,” he replied solemnly, remembering how he’d been prone to lashing out at the first opportunity. “And you called me out for it, and you were right to. But this is about this killer. Can’t you see what he’s trying to do? He’s trying to throw you off your A-game. Make you look bad in front of anyone with eyes. If this gets back to Wade, she will throw the book at you, followed by the bookshelf.”

  Leah tried to calm herself down, letting his logic lead her…

  Just then, Thomas Howard emerged from the house, holding his phone. “I’m getting a message from Kyle,” he stated, unable to take his eyes off the text. “He’s asking me to come and give him some money in a few hours, just after nightfall.”

  Leah and Jonesy shared a look, knowing exactly what would happen if Thomas went to this exchange. They’d be dealing with a second body.

  Suddenly, Leah’s phone started buzzing and she answered it. “DI West speaking.”

  “Ma’am,” Farah’s overeager voice came through. “It’s DC Hussein. I think we’ve found our killer. DS Rowan and I are at his temporary place of residence. And he definitely has the facilities for falsifying voice clips.”

  Leah felt her breath catching in her throat. “Is there anything else? A name?”

  “He was checked in under the name Andrew Fletcher, but we think that was an alias. We were able to lift some fingerprints, and we’re going to run them through a database and see if we’ve got a match.”

  “Do you think he’s going to be coming back there?” Leah asked, hoping that the killer was going to walk into their trap.

  “We are going to wait it out. DS Rowan is staying on the scene to keep a lookout for him. I’m going to make sure that all the evidence gets taken in.”

  “Excellent,” she exclaimed, feeling like a large weight had been taken off of her. “Well done, Farah.” But when the constable didn’t thank her, she sensed there was more to follow. “What is it, Farah?”

  “Among his possessions,” Farah began hesitantly, painstakingly choosing every word she said. “We found a notebook containing pictures of all the people he’s impersonated. Your friend Charlotte was in there.”

  Leah froze.

  “There is also an entry when he talks about calling you.”

  Suddenly, Leah felt like the world was crumbling around her.

  She almost wished that Superintendent Wade would shout the place down. That would be better than the silent disappointment she was now feeling.

  “So…” she began, pacing up and down the room, looking spring loaded. “The killer has been contacting you using your deceased friend’s voice.”

  “I didn’t think it was important,” Leah began, then she faltered. There was no justification she could offer that would get her out of this.

  “Didn’t think it was important?” Wade asked, her voice almost a whisper. “Leah, the killer had marked you. What if you’d been asked to meet at a private location? What if you’d ended up just like Caroline Lennox?”

  The tone in her voice sounded less like a superior berating an underling and more like a mother disciplining her wayward child. “As a serving police officer, it was your lawful duty to report this. What if there was something in those calls that could have benefited the case?”

  Jonesy stepped forward. He’d clearly given a lot of thought to what he was going to say and asked, “If I may, ma’am, we had an idea of what the killer’s intent was and needed to play along—”

  “I’m going to stop you there, DC Jones,” Nora interrupted, holding up a hand. “So, you’re telling me that you were aware of this farce and willingly kept silent?” She shook her head. “Christ, is it just me then? Always the last to know? Just out of curiosity, when were you planning on telling me this?”

  But the answer was clear. If DC Hussein hadn’t discovered that notebook, no one would have been any the wiser.

  “Did either of you ever consider the implications I’d be faced with?” she asked indignantly. “Do you not consider that it reflects badly on me if I can’t even handle my own officers?”

  “If the killer assumed that Leah—DI West—was seeing through the ruse, he might not have been willing to talk to her,” Jonesy explained, and Leah felt guilty for ever doubting her faith in him.

  But Nora was not so easily swayed. “Need I remind you that the rules are in place for your own protection? And for proper authorisation?”

  Going along with Jonesy’s words, Leah stated plainly, “I thought it best not to jeopardise the contact and to see if I could supply a line of intelligence. Maybe he would have slipped up.”

  Now Wade was scowling. “I should report you, DI West,” she stated angrily. “God knows you’ve given them enough rope to hang you with. But chances are it wouldn’t cause a bigger stink than the one we have already. Did you honestly think about reporting to your seniors?”

  “Ma’am,” Jonesy interrupted curtly, determined to get himself heard. “The killer did this because he knew that Leah would be headlining the investigation. He was doing this so that it would either throw her off her game or get her taken off the case. You take her off the case, not only are you doing away with the most capable detective in the station, you’re doing exactly what the killer wants.”

  That seemed to get through to Nora, who visibly relaxed. “You realise that if word of this gets out, no one around here is going to come out smelling of roses. You’re my best team, and I’ll back you to the hilt. But I’m only one officer, and I can’t hold back the tide forever.”

  Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. They all turned around to see Farah standing in the doorway. “Sorry to interrupt,” she began, avoiding looking at Leah directly. “Just to let you know, the fingerprints came back; we’re looking for an Alec Prescott. He’s got numerous offences under his name for grifting and short-term cons.”

  “A con artist?” Nora exclaimed, before the pieces started coming together.

  “Yes,” Farah explained, holding up a mugshot of the man. “It matches the description that was given by his landlady.”

  “Then we need to make sure we find him before he flees Bedford,” the superintendent ordered, ready to mobilise her team.

  “And DI West?” Farah began, feeling responsible for the mess she was in. “I’m really sorry about the notebook.”

  But Leah smiled. “You don’t have to apologise, Farah. You couldn’t have known.”

  With that alleviating remark, Farah closed the door and walked away.

  “You certainly inspire a lot of loyalty, DI West,” Nora exclaimed, though the inspector couldn’t tell whether it was meant as a compliment.

  “I think we need to get everyone out there,” Jonesy suggested, suddenly needing to move the conversation along. “Prescott has sent a message to Thomas Howard requesting a meet-up to deliver some money to him.”

  “You think he’s still going to go along with that considering we’re turning his place upside down?” Nora asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “He’s a con artist,” Leah answered with a shrug. “Would you walk away from a massive payday?”

  “So, what are you suggesting?” Nora asked, feeling she was past the point of blissful ignorance.

  “We need to let the exchange go along,” Leah insisted, imagining the scene; Alec Prescott walking into a trap and all of CID waiting to nab him.

  But Nora clearly didn’t share her enthusiasm. “I don’t know how I feel about this.”

  “What’s there to think about?” the inspector demanded, feeling every second that went by left Prescott plotting his escape. “This guy has evaded capture for years. God knows how many more people he’s going to kill before someone gets lucky.”

  “I am aware of the implications, DI West,” Nora growled with agitation. “You don’t need to school me on the issue of criminals slipping through the net, thank you. You don’t think I see the situation for what it is? If it goes well, we take all the credit for catching a serial killer. But if it goes wrong, he gets away scot-free, adds another body to his tally, and we’re all left standing around like idiots, so forgive me for weighing my options.”

  “This is as good a chance as any,” Jonesy piped in, Leah’s man through and through. “We might not get another chance.”

  Nora looked at the two detectives, having long since learned to question their judgment as well as trust it in the long run.

  “All right,” she finally agreed. “Make the arrangements.”

  15

  Thomas Howard had been contacted over the phone with the arrangements. They would have sent an officer, but they couldn’t risk the possibility that Prescott was watching his house.

  He was hesitant to play along at first, considering the risk to himself. “You are going to be sending me in there like a lamb to the slaughter?”

  “Mr Howard,” Leah began, trying to work her persuasive magic on the man. “Believe me, I understand the risk we are asking you to take. And were there any other way to catch this man, we’d take it. But this is our only chance. He’s disrespecting your brother’s memory. And this isn’t an isolated incident. He’s done this several times over. And he’s going to keep doing it unless we stop him here and now, and make sure that Alec Prescott is put behind bars where he belongs.”

  She hoped that this would have the necessary effect on the man. Finally, Thomas exclaimed, “All right, I’ll do it. Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”

  “Tell him you’ll come to him with the money,” she instructed, trying to imagine the killer’s headspace, hoping that his greed would make him see this through. “And when he gets back to you, tell us, and we’ll have a team ready.”

  “Okay,” Thomas replied, though a part of him was still hesitant.

  While the team was getting ready, she went to speak with Royce, who had been looking over all the evidence Farah had collected, including the notebook. As soon as he saw Leah, he backed away as though she were repellent.

  “Erm,” he stammered, trying to cover his hesitation. “Everyone around the station has been talking about this notebook.” He pointed to the incriminating item on his desktop. “And…”

  “No, we haven’t told them that you knew about Charlotte,” Jonesy replied with an eye roll.

  Royce made no effort to hide his relief. “Oh, thank Christ. I was worried I was going to be out of a job by the end of the day.” He bit his lip as he realised his poorly chosen choice of words. “Wait, how did Wade take it?”

  “Well, I’m still in one piece,” Leah remarked, trying not to show her own concern. “For now. We’re getting ready for a sting operation to catch Alec Prescott.” She thought, but didn’t say, that maybe this would put her back in Wade’s good books.

  With that particular bout of unpleasantness out of the way, Royce then addressed another matter. “There’s something else I’ve been looking into,” he began, holding up the notebook. “Mainly the killer’s connection to you.”

  “I wasn’t aware there was a connection,” she fired back defensively.

  “Well, he seemed to know a lot about Charlotte,” he explained, pulling open the notebook so that the detectives could see the notes and scribbles of a madman.

  Peering closer, Leah could see that he’d catalogued her friend’s life in minute detail, her likes, her dislikes, how she sounded, her ambitions, and her prized moments with Leah as a child.

  “How many people know about your friendship with Charlotte?” Royce asked, closing the notebook.

  Leah and Jonesy looked at each other, unable to put a number on the answer. “It’s not exactly a secret,” she finally managed with little conviction.

  “Well, I’ll tell you something,” Royce continued, inhaling deeply as though he was going to explode. “If we’re going with the theory that Prescott was calling you to disrupt your investigation, then he would have to have known that you would be the investigating officer. He knew which skeletons to drag out of your closet.”

  “I’m sorry, what are you saying?” Leah asked, hoping this wasn’t going where she thought it was going.

  “I’m saying that the only way that Prescott could have come by that information is if somebody had messaged him to tell him,” Royce explained, slumping back in his chair. “I’m saying he could have a contact in the police.”

  Both detectives went numb at the suggestion. The room felt a lot smaller to Leah as she tried to think of who might be supporting Prescott’s demented crusade.

  “I think you can rule me out,” Royce quickly added, holding up his hands. “I wouldn’t have told you otherwise.”

  But Leah didn’t hear him. She spun on her heels and took off towards Nora’s office, Jonesy following close by.

  “You think there’s any truth to it?” Jonesy asked, struggling to keep up.

  “If you can think of a better explanation, I’d like to hear it,” she fired back, keeping her eyes on the corridor ahead. “But we need to go and speak to Superintendent Wade before we do anything else.”

  “You really think that’s wise?” Jonesy asked, remembering how the woman had come so close to hitting them both with a red notice.

  “She’s been giving me grief about not being transparent enough; I’d prefer not to make the same mistake.”

  Once they arrived, she was sat in her office speaking over the phone. “Yes, I understand,” she was saying in a smile that felt more like a grimace. “I can assure you we have the situation well in hand. Thank you, I look forward to speaking with you too, sir.” She hung the phone up. “That was the Deputy Chief Constable. He’s not too happy about the situation, but he’s willing to play ball providing we bring Prescott in for questioning.”

  “We’ve got another situation to report, ma’am,” Leah stated, standing to attention.

  Nora rolled her eyes, unable to take the tidal wave of revelations. “Is this going to have me requesting your resignation?”

  “The information that Prescott was able to get on me regarding Charlotte,” she began, thinking over everything Royce had told her. “We think that someone in the police department could have informed him. Someone who’s working against us.”

  Now they had Nora’s full attention as she leaned over the desk and studied the two officers. “And what evidence do you have to back this up?”

  Leah hesitated, only now remembering that Nora was not the type of person to believe anything unless it was right in front of her.

  “The fact that Prescott knew I would be the lead investigator,” she explained, trying to apply the technician’s logic. “Given the amount of research he’d done beforehand, he would have to know of my senior position beforehand.”

  “And who do you think could be the culprit?” Nora asked, taking the allegation seriously, but unsure how far they could take it.

 

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