we’ve managed to hang on to.’
‘So we’re in trouble?’
She exhaled. ‘Well, you’re here, aren’t you? Things have to get pretty desperate before they start dragging people in from all over the country. We’re holding the next weekly brief in the canteen because there are too many of us to fit in the meeting room. Half of them I don’t even know.’ She dropped three sugar cubes into her coffee. ‘As for thekiller, all we’ve got is some rough CCTV footage of him leaving the first house, and a few witnesses who saw a man at the scene of the third murder in the right sort of timeframe. We aren’t even sure how he’s moving around.’
Mike began flicking through the case file.
‘It’s all the usual stuff,’ she volunteered. ‘But you should focus on the interview write-ups and the profiles of exes and family members with form. One possibility is that the killer could be Glenis Ward’s dropout stepson – Glenis was the first victim, by the way. Gary Ward was the product of her late husband’s previous marriage, and probably well past his approach-by date, given his lifestyle. Dad died three years ago, after which Gary lived with her, through necessity rather than choice, mind, thanks to his fondness for short-term loans and amphetamines. He and Glenis never gelled.’
‘Could he be the guy seen at the Anderton’s place?’
‘No; wrong appearance. Witnesses consistently say that man was of Mediterranean descent. We don’t have pictures, but neither of Gary’s parents had roots outside the UK.’
‘So you know where Gary is?’
‘That’s the thing. Nobody’s heard from Gary since before Glenis died. The neighbours say he hadn’t stayed at the house in weeks, after a series of late-night rows, but maybe he fancied the place to himself? He returns to facilitate stepmother’s trip to the bottom of her bathtub, intending to frame it as suicide and inherit the kingdom as only surviving benefactor in her will. But in the process of knocking her off, he discovers a taste for homicide.’
Mike took over. ‘Then he Houdinis his way outta there and starts looking for number two at random. It’s neat, right? But you don’t think that any more than I do. And it means you guys can’t link him to the other victims.’
‘It’s early days with Jess,’ Hawkins countered, ‘but, yes, you’d struggle to find three less connected lives. As for area, the crime scenes just about qualify as south-east London, but they’re spread out, and two of the three victims came originally from outside London.’ She counted off on her fingers: ‘Former-model turned socialite; ex-care worker now comfortable jeweller’s wife; retired dinner lady stroke school sports supervisor, all of different generations. It’s no surprise their paths didn’t cross. Until they all got murdered by the same person, of course.’
Mike nodded. ‘Any other suspects?’
As they drank their coffees, Hawkins explained about the remaining potentials, like ex-boyfriends or previous work colleagues – they were still trying to trace.
They were just beginning to knock around ideas about how to move forwards when her mobile rang.
‘Hello?’
‘Antonia, it’s Connor. Do you want the good news, or the really shitty news?’
‘Good first.’
‘It’s about the man seen leaving the Andertons’ place.’
‘Go on.’
‘I’m standing in his front garden.’
12.
He needed sleep.
He’d had less than an hour last night, and not much more than that for weeks now. Even when he did go under he woke up screaming. The dreams had been getting worse again; in fact, he had begun to welcome moments like this, when he came round, realizing that his body had simply shut down for a while.
But he couldn’t afford for it to happen in public.
He sat back in his chair, blinking slowly, looking around. Everything moved as if he was watching low-quality footage: jerky and out of focus. He rubbed his eyes, even though he knew the
‘So we’re in trouble?’
She exhaled. ‘Well, you’re here, aren’t you? Things have to get pretty desperate before they start dragging people in from all over the country. We’re holding the next weekly brief in the canteen because there are too many of us to fit in the meeting room. Half of them I don’t even know.’ She dropped three sugar cubes into her coffee. ‘As for thekiller, all we’ve got is some rough CCTV footage of him leaving the first house, and a few witnesses who saw a man at the scene of the third murder in the right sort of timeframe. We aren’t even sure how he’s moving around.’
Mike began flicking through the case file.
‘It’s all the usual stuff,’ she volunteered. ‘But you should focus on the interview write-ups and the profiles of exes and family members with form. One possibility is that the killer could be Glenis Ward’s dropout stepson – Glenis was the first victim, by the way. Gary Ward was the product of her late husband’s previous marriage, and probably well past his approach-by date, given his lifestyle. Dad died three years ago, after which Gary lived with her, through necessity rather than choice, mind, thanks to his fondness for short-term loans and amphetamines. He and Glenis never gelled.’
‘Could he be the guy seen at the Anderton’s place?’
‘No; wrong appearance. Witnesses consistently say that man was of Mediterranean descent. We don’t have pictures, but neither of Gary’s parents had roots outside the UK.’
‘So you know where Gary is?’
‘That’s the thing. Nobody’s heard from Gary since before Glenis died. The neighbours say he hadn’t stayed at the house in weeks, after a series of late-night rows, but maybe he fancied the place to himself? He returns to facilitate stepmother’s trip to the bottom of her bathtub, intending to frame it as suicide and inherit the kingdom as only surviving benefactor in her will. But in the process of knocking her off, he discovers a taste for homicide.’
Mike took over. ‘Then he Houdinis his way outta there and starts looking for number two at random. It’s neat, right? But you don’t think that any more than I do. And it means you guys can’t link him to the other victims.’
‘It’s early days with Jess,’ Hawkins countered, ‘but, yes, you’d struggle to find three less connected lives. As for area, the crime scenes just about qualify as south-east London, but they’re spread out, and two of the three victims came originally from outside London.’ She counted off on her fingers: ‘Former-model turned socialite; ex-care worker now comfortable jeweller’s wife; retired dinner lady stroke school sports supervisor, all of different generations. It’s no surprise their paths didn’t cross. Until they all got murdered by the same person, of course.’
Mike nodded. ‘Any other suspects?’
As they drank their coffees, Hawkins explained about the remaining potentials, like ex-boyfriends or previous work colleagues – they were still trying to trace.
They were just beginning to knock around ideas about how to move forwards when her mobile rang.
‘Hello?’
‘Antonia, it’s Connor. Do you want the good news, or the really shitty news?’
‘Good first.’
‘It’s about the man seen leaving the Andertons’ place.’
‘Go on.’
‘I’m standing in his front garden.’
12.
He needed sleep.
He’d had less than an hour last night, and not much more than that for weeks now. Even when he did go under he woke up screaming. The dreams had been getting worse again; in fact, he had begun to welcome moments like this, when he came round, realizing that his body had simply shut down for a while.
But he couldn’t afford for it to happen in public.
He sat back in his chair, blinking slowly, looking around. Everything moved as if he was watching low-quality footage: jerky and out of focus. He rubbed his eyes, even though he knew the
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