Like This, for Ever

34




‘IS THIS THE first time someone’s tried to involve you in this investigation?’ Dana stared at Lacey, pale and stony-faced, across the interview-room desk.

‘Detective Inspector Joesbury has encouraged me to come back to work so that I can join your team, but, other than that, yes.’

Was that intended to wind her up, that little dig about Mark, Dana wondered. And how come it was working? A couple of months ago, it would have amused her. ‘How much do you know about the case?’ she asked.

‘Only what I’ve heard on the news or read in the papers. To be honest, I’ve been avoiding it. I’m finding violent crime a little difficult to deal with right now.’

‘Another coffee, Lacey?’ said Anderson.

As Lacey shook her head, Dana wondered if she’d made a mistake bringing Neil in on the interview. For one thing, men always had a thing about Lacey Flint. For another, he was just too damn reasonable at times.

‘One thing I should tell you is that I went to Durham prison today.’ Lacey glanced at the clock behind Dana’s head. ‘Yesterday,’ she corrected.

‘Again?’ said Anderson, before he could stop himself.

Lacey showed no sign of having heard him. ‘People in prison hear things. It’s not impossible that text had its origins there.’

Dana thought about it. ‘Not impossible,’ she agreed. ‘Just highly unlikely. Prison inmates do not have access to mobile phones, for one thing.’

‘Where there’s a will,’ said Anderson. ‘I can have someone follow it up in the morning.’

‘I hear you go out a lot at night, Lacey,’ said Dana. ‘Where do you go?’

‘I walk,’ said Lacey, with that cold glint in her eyes that Dana had always, secretly, been rather afraid of.

‘Where? Where do you walk?’

‘Along the embankment, usually. I’m fond of the river.’

‘The South Bank?’

‘Both. I usually do a circular walk.’

‘Not really the time of year for walking along the river.’

‘I dress for it.’

‘Do you walk alone?’

‘Always.’

‘Where were you last Thursday evening between 7.30pm and 9 o’clock?’

Hazel-blue eyes narrowed. ‘Are you serious?’

Impossible to back down now. ‘Perfectly.’

‘Last Thursday evening I was out walking.’

‘By the river?’

‘Yes, for a while, I cut back through Vauxhall.’

‘Anyone see you?’

Lacey let a slow, cold smile spread over her face. Her lips didn’t part, her teeth remained hidden. ‘Actually, yes,’ she said. ‘Some kids at my local community centre. One of them lives next door to me.’

‘We may need to talk to him.’

‘He’ll be thrilled. He’s following the case very closely.’

‘Did you know Tyler King?’

‘No.’

‘Ryan Jackson? Noah Moore? Jason and Joshua Barlow?’

As each name was put to her, Lacey shook her head, slowly and deliberately. Jesus, Dana thought. Now she could see exactly what had been getting Mark so wound up last year, when he’d repeatedly insisted Flint had known more than she was letting on. There was something about this woman that was cold.

On the other hand, she really had to take it easy or Weaver would be on her case again.

‘Lacey.’ Dana made herself lean forward against the desk, closer to the other woman. ‘What you went through in Cambridge earlier this year would have been difficult for anyone to deal with.’

Flint placed one hand on top of the other and tilted her chin upwards. Dana had to admit that for a girl who’d dragged herself up from nothing, she had incredible poise.

‘And coming as quickly as it did on top of the Ripper case – well, I can’t imagine what’s going on inside your head right now.’

I’ll bet you can’t, said the look in those eyes.

‘We can help, you know. We’re on your side.’

Two perfectly shaped eyebrows lifted.

Dana waited, gave her time. Flint didn’t look away. Dana felt her own eyes start to smart.

‘Interview terminated at zero one fifty hours,’ she said. ‘Thank you for your cooperation, DC Flint. We’ll be in touch.’

Flint got to her feet and took her jacket from the back of the chair. For a second, her face softened as she looked at Anderson. ‘Goodnight, Sarge,’ she said, before turning and leaving the room. Even after the door had closed and her footsteps had faded, her presence seemed to hover in the room like the faintest trace of a perfume.

‘Boss, you’re not serious? Lacey?’

Dana let out a breath. She had no idea why she’d just given Flint such a hard time.

‘I know you think we’re looking for a woman, and I’m happy to run with it, it makes some sense, but for the love of—’

‘You know her background, Neil. Abuse, foster-homes, drug addiction. She has a close and ongoing relationship with one of the most vicious killers I’ve ever come across. You heard her, she was there again today. The heroine detective, best mates with the serial killer she helped to put away. It’s a sick joke.’

‘Well, I grant you her visits to Durham aren’t the wisest—’

‘And that’s before what she went through in Cambridge. I told Mark she wasn’t ready for an operation like that, but who listens to me?’

‘She’s one of us.’

‘That woman is damaged goods. And she will never be part of a team.’

Silence that spoke volumes.

‘I want a warrant to search her flat,’ said Dana.

‘No.’

Dana turned and looked at Anderson for the first time since Lacey had left the room. ‘Excuse me?’

‘You’ve no grounds. You’ll never get one, and if by some fluke of luck you do, we’ll lose her for ever. I won’t be part of that – no disrespect, Boss.’

‘You’ll do what you’re bloody well told.’

Silence again. Suddenly, it was all too much. Dana slumped forward, dropped her head into her hands. For a second or two she felt the heavy load of Anderson’s judgemental stare. Then fingers dropped lightly on to her shoulder.

‘Five dead kids, Boss. It’s getting to all of us.’

That was for sure. So why was she the only one sinking?

‘It’s important, the fact that the body showed up in Deptford Creek,’ Richmond told the assembled team. ‘If this was our killer’s first victim – and, pending the post-mortem report, let’s assume so – he hadn’t yet established a pattern. The careful arrangement on exactly the right spot of the riverbank, the showing off, hadn’t kicked in. He was still finding his way.’

‘He could just have got the tides wrong,’ suggested Barrett.

‘Even if it was just carelessness, it’s still significant. He hasn’t made the same mistake since. He’s upped his game, established a pattern that he’s comfortable with.’

‘Mark Joesbury was with me at the scene tonight,’ said Dana. ‘He said it isn’t possible for a body entering the Thames to get swept up that stretch of the Creek. Mark knows the river well. His grandfather worked for the Marine Unit, his uncle still does.’

Richmond nodded. ‘You should definitely check that out. The first victim will always point you to the killer’s location. Tyler didn’t live anywhere near Deptford Creek, so if he was dumped there, he was probably killed very near by. That’s where you need to concentrate your search.’

It made sense. On the other hand, Tower Bridge was some distance from Deptford Creek. Was the killer travelling further to dump the bodies? Or was he killing them somewhere new?

‘The other significant part of the night’s events is that someone pulled Tyler’s body out of the river. He didn’t jump. Someone could have spotted him, pulled him out and called your colleague, DC Flint, anonymously, but that seems unlikely. Even someone not wanting to get involved could have phoned the police from a call box. I’d say it’s more likely that the killer knew Tyler’s body was trapped somehow in the Creek, decided the time had come for him to be found and that Lacey should be the conduit.’

Dana waited for someone else on the team to question the coincidence of Lacey Flint once again being pulled into a serious murder investigation.

‘Any thoughts on why Lacey should be the one singled out?’ she asked, when it was clear no one else was going to.

‘She was involved in a very high-profile case a few months ago,’ said Richmond. ‘She’s also a beautiful young woman. She’s going to attract attention.’

‘Both true,’ said Anderson. ‘But Lacey has always gone out of her way to avoid publicity. She didn’t do a single interview after the Ripper case. Personally, I’d put money on her prison contacts being responsible for the text.’

The door to the incident room opened and Stenning came in. When she and Anderson had returned to the station, Dana had left him in charge of talking to the residents of the string of houseboats.

‘How did you get on, Pete?’ she asked him.

‘There are twelve residential boats along that arm of the Creek,’ said Stenning, perching on the back of a desk and stifling a yawn. ‘All owner-occupied. Five of the owners were at home all evening, one couple arrived back shortly after midnight, two families are away for the weekend and one boat hasn’t been lived in since its previous owner died.’ Stenning stopped to check his notebook. ‘New owner is his son-in-law, a Stewart Roberts,’ he went on. ‘But he isn’t seen from one month to the next. I’ve got names for the other three owners, but no sign of them tonight. There are also about half a dozen vans in the yard and a couple of Portakabins. The site’s secured for now, we can do a proper search in daylight.’

‘Anyone you speak to see anything?’

Stenning shook his head. ‘One chap heard movement in the yard and saw some dark shapes, but he admits himself his eyesight is pretty bad. He yelled and they scarpered. He had a feeling it was kids.’

‘What time?’

‘Ten-thirtyish. Over two hours before we got there.’

‘Kids would explain all the smallish footprints we found on a couple of the boats,’ said Dana. ‘I can see kids spotting something in the water and pulling it out before they realized what it was. What I find harder to understand is why they didn’t let someone know immediately.’

The door opened again and the desk sergeant peered in.

‘Sorry, Ma’am, but Tyler King’s parents are downstairs. And a handful of journalists. They’ve heard we found a body tonight.’

‘How the hell?’ Dana began.

‘Ma’am, it’s on Facebook,’ said Mizon, who’d been at her computer for the last hour. ‘Peter Sweep posted three minutes ago. Shit, there’s a photograph.’

‘What?’ Dana was on her feet. She reached Mizon’s terminal first, the rest crowded round her as they read Peter Sweep’s latest post.

Badly decomposed body of Tyler King pulled out of Deptford Creek at 10.30 this evening. Slightly damp. Who said he would never be found? Never is an awfully long time and murder will out. Even mine.

A second later the relief sent a tremble through her. ‘That’s not our corpse,’ she said. ‘That’s not even Deptford Creek. This sick bastard found a picture on the internet and posted it for effect. I tell you one thing, when we find this Peter Sweep, whether he’s involved or not, I’m going to throw the book at him.’

‘Ma’am!’ She’d forgotten the desk sergeant. Forgotten Tyler King’s parents waiting downstairs, wondering if their long ordeal of not knowing was finally at an end, hoping and dreading, in equal measure.

‘I’m coming,’ she said.