Were keeping an open mind, Sean told him. What about anyone else threatening him or the company? Anything like that going on?
Well, theres always the anti-capitalist nutters and the anarchist groups, of course, and since the banking crisis we get the occasional disgruntled member of the public phoning up to have a go or writing poison pen letters, but nothing particularly personal to Paul. Some of the letters might have been addressed to him, but only because he was the CEO.
Have there been any incidents here at your offices? Sally asked. Anyone making trouble, threatening anyone, anything like that?
Not inside, Damant answered, but weve had the occasional small group protests outside you know, marching up and down with daft placards, usually stirred up by left-wing agitators and trouble-makers, but again, nothing you could describe as personal to Paul.
What about everyday folk? Sean asked. People who lost their life savings and homes?
Damant moved uncomfortably in his chair. Sometimes, he admitted. Little groups of the disaffected. Paul always felt sorry for them. He took no pleasure in their plight. Like I said, he was a good guy and a bit of a philanthropist too gave a lot of his wealth away to good causes, but never sought to gain out of it. Just did it because he thought it was the right thing to do. Maybe if hed made more of a thing about it this nutter wouldnt have targeted him. Christ, the whole things just unbelievable.
What about within the company? Sean asked. Did Paul have to sack anyone lately make anyone redundant who took it badly?
No. No, Damant replied. Paul was too senior to personally take care of things like that, unless the person being sacked or made redundant were also very senior, and that hasnt happened for a very long time.
How long? Sally asked.
So long ago I cant remember. Even then Id imagine they were happy to take redundancy and go. Our redundancy packages are very generous, believe me.
Im sure they are, Sean agreed, losing interest in what seemed another dead end. Does your company keep records of any threatening or malicious calls or letters you receive?
We do. Our internal security people take care of that sort of thing.
Well need copies of everything and any records of calls received too, Sean told him. There may be something in them we can use.
Of course. No problem. Ill get security to get those ready for you right away.
Thanks, Sean told him. Its appreciated.
Dont thank me, Damant insisted. Just catch the bastard before he grabs another one of us.
The Your View Killer stalked around the white room making sure everything was ready for his next trial. The victim had been selected and his plans for their abduction well prepared and even rehearsed to a point.
He wore the same black work overalls, black leather gloves and even the ski-mask, even though he was alone and the broadcasting equipment was disconnected. There was no one to recognize him, but he wouldnt make the mistake of becoming lazy and leaving his fingerprints or a strand of hair carrying his DNA in the wrong place for the police to find once they discovered the white room, as surely one day they would one day long after he, the Your View Killer, had already disappeared forever. A smile spread across his lips at the irony of the situation one day soon hed practically have to give the police the very things that could damn him. And when that day happened it would be a sign that everything was progressing just as hed planned.
Sean had arrived home late, but early enough to help his wife Kate prepare supper for both of them. They sat at the kitchen table, Kate doing most of the talking and the eating, while Sean pretended to be listening as he concentrated on his wine and thought about the new case. Kate had a lot to get off her chest and talked away happily about the children and her work as a casualty doctor at Guys Hospital, but eventually she looked at him long enough to notice he wasnt truly with her.
You OK? she asked.
Sorry? he replied when he realized he was expected to respond.
Are you OK? Kate repeated.
Yeah. Sorry. New case.
A new case? she inquired. What is it?
Sean rubbed his temples and considered his answer, but Kate had already worked it out. Dont tell me its the one thats been all over the news the so-called Your View Killer. Sean didnt reply. It is, isnt it?
Same as any other murder investigation, he lied. Just because its on the telly doesnt make it any more difficult than if no one had heard about it.
Well thats not true, is it? she argued. The more high profile the case the more pressure youll be under to solve it, and the more pressure youre under, the grumpier youll get.
I can handle it, he tried to reassure her, but he knew he didnt sound convincing.
I know you can handle it, she answered, but only if you push everything else away so you can think of nothing but the case including me. Including the kids.
Thats not true.
Isnt it? You sure?
I do the best I can. Hopefully well get this sorted quickly and then you wont have to worry about it.
Until the next high-profile case they dump on you.
Were Special Investigations only now theyre all going to be high profile. On the plus side there should be less of them maybe less than one a year.
You hope, or maybe you dont. He didnt answer. Anyway, whats this one about? The people at work seem convinced hes some latter-day Robin Hood, come to make the rich and corrupt pay for their greed. Theres not a lot of sympathy out there for the victim.
People are quick to judge, but I guess thats the whole point, Sean told her.
What dyou mean?
The killer thats what he does. Tells people to judge, although they only have a fragment of the facts. And theyre all too willing to go along with it, even if it means a man ends up losing his life.
I dont think people believed it was for real, Kate argued.
Did some of the people you work with vote? he questioned her.
Why? she asked, a little suspicious of her husbands reason for asking. Are they in trouble if they did?
Maybe. Probably not if they thought it was a hoax. But anyone voting in the future could be guilty of conspiracy to murder.
You cant arrest everybody, Kate said. You cant arrest tens of thousands of people, maybe hundreds of thousands.
We might have to make a few arrests scare people away from voting.
Id better not say anything else, she half joked. Wouldnt want to get anyone at work arrested. Were short-staffed as it is.
Dont worry, he told her. I promise not to arrest any of your work colleagues, or friends, or whatever you call them.
Kate rolled her brown eyes, making the golden skin of her forehead wrinkle. Gee, thanks, she replied, getting to her feet and beginning to clear the table. Speaking of friends, dont forget were going out for dinner with ours this week.
Dont worry, he told her. I promise not to arrest any of your work colleagues, or friends, or whatever you call them.
Kate rolled her brown eyes, making the golden skin of her forehead wrinkle. Gee, thanks, she replied, getting to her feet and beginning to clear the table. Speaking of friends, dont forget were going out for dinner with ours this week.
We are?
Yes. We are. Its in the calendar on the computer, if you ever bothered to check it.
He watched her head to the sink, her long, curly black hair tied back in a ponytail. He tried to remember the last time hed seen her dressed for a night out, but couldnt. Who we going out with?
James and Kerry, Chris and Sally and Leon and Sophie.
So what youre saying is were going out with your friends?
Kate looked over her slim shoulder as she paused with a soapy dish in hand. Feel free to arrange a night out with your friends any time you like. Id love to finally meet some of them properly. She went back to washing the dishes.
Not a great idea, Sean told her. Theyd just get pissed and talk job all night.
Sounds great. Ill look forward to it.
Ha, ha, Sean mocked, getting to his feet and heading for the stairs.
Oi, Kate called after him. A hand with the cleaning up would be nice.
Im knackered, he complained, and I need to get back to the office super early tomorrow before anyone notices Im not there.
Fine, Kate relented. Just remember dinner this week.
Yeah, yeah, he answered, but hed already forgotten about it, too tired to care, his mind blissfully still. The case hadnt got into him yet hadnt taken him over completely. He wondered whether it was because he too lacked empathy with the victim. If it had been a woman or a child killed in the same way but for different reasons he wouldnt have felt as he did. He would have already been consumed by the overpowering urge to keep going until the killer had been caught he doubted he would have even come home for the evening. Early days, he told himself as he climbed the stairs to bed. Itll get to you soon enough.
4
Sean arrived at work the next morning early enough to be the first one in the office and was glad of it. He walked slowly across the main room, casting an eye over the tip that was supposed to be the nerve centre of their investigations. Discarded items of clothing hung on chairs and over computer screens, abandoned polystyrene cups of cold, stale coffee littered almost every work surface, while the wastepaper bins overflowed with crisp packets, chocolate wrappers and plastic sandwich boxes. The large brown paper confidential waste sacks that filled every corner fared no better. He shook his head in displeasure and retreated into the sanctuary of his own reasonably ordered and tidy office.
He slumped in his chair and peeled the lid off the black coffee hed picked up from a nearby café the grey filth they sold in the canteen at the Yard was wholly undrinkable. Next he placed his own personal laptop next to the coffee and started it into life. Once it was ready he pulled up the video of Paul Elkinss murder and began to watch and listen: the victim taped to the chair, confused and terrified while the killer periodically stalked in front of the cameras, not even his eyes visible as he spoke in that eerie electronic voice preaching more than appealing.
Sean pressed pause for a second, giving his mind time to absorb what he had seen so far, to analyse it, to pick up on some small thing theyd all missed. His eyes seemed to flicker as he studied the screen before pressing play again, only to pause it a few seconds later, the image of the killer staring out at him.
Confident bastard, arent you? he whispered. Is that why youre doing this, because it makes you feel confident makes you feel good again? Gives you back the pride that they took away from you? He clicked on play and watched for a few more minutes, the killers organized and self-assured demeanour never changing as he explained the rules of the trial to the watching jury.
He paused again and stared at the dark figure standing straight and purposeful. What are you like when youre not being this thing? What are you like when youre just yourself? Are you meek and mild a broken man too defeated to even stand up for yourself, your wife, your children? Did they beat the fight out of you took your business, your house, your job? But when you put the ski-mask on, when you hear yourself speaking in that unrecognizable voice, does it give you your self-esteem back? Does it make you feel powerful? And why kill him the way you did? It was slow and painful. Was it the only way you knew how, or did you want it to be like that? Did you want him to suffer want to make him pay?
A knock on his open door shattered his concentration and he looked up to see Donnelly standing there with a small man in his thirties he didnt recognize. Sean looked him up and down, taking note of his skinny arms and legs and little pot belly, spectacles balancing on the end of his nose, receding blond hair uncombed and unstyled.
Who the hell is this? he asked Donnelly, never looking away from the man who was now flushed red.
This, Donnelly explained, is Detective Constable Bob Bishop.
Where the hell did you find him? And more to the point, what are you doing with him? Bishop looked from Donnelly to Sean and back again, following the conversation anxiously.
I abducted him from the Cyber Crime Unit, Donnelly continued. The DI theres an old friend of mine. He said we could have him. Still neither of them bothered to address Bishop. Sean shook his head in mock disbelief. What? Donnelly played along. You said get an Internet expert.
Is that what he is? Sean continued to stare at the very uncomfortable-looking Bishop. Is that what you are an Internet expert?
I know my way around the Web as well as anyone from the Cyber Unit, Bishop stuttered in his Birmingham accent.
See, Donnelly jumped in. Like I said an expert.
You know why youre here? Sean asked.
Something about the Your View Killer. DS Donnelly told me.
Its all about the Your View Killer, Sean told him. Bishop visibly swallowed hard. Can he be traced? Can we trace him to wherever hes broadcasting from?
Yes, Bishop answered, but its not like on the telly it can take a while. But why dyou need me? Cant you use one of your own team?
Sure, Sean teased him, because my teams full of Internet and computer experts. The Commissioner lets me keep them locked in a room for whenever I might need them along with thousands of pounds worth of tracking equipment for the once in a blue moon when I might need that too. Bishop, this is the Metropolitan Police: you dont get given anything until you absolutely need it and then you beg, steal and borrow it before handing it back to wherever it is you got it from. And right now I need you.
Well then, I guess Im all yours, Bishop gave in.
Good. Can we trace it even when its not on? Sean pressed ahead with his queries.