‘Where and when?’
He got up from his desk, walking around the room with the handset close to his ear, his shoulders lowered as if sharing a secret.
‘I contacted the Rome police earlier today. We have a similar MO, hotel-room location, the victim stabbed repeatedly, only whoever carried out the attack set fire to the hotel room. The victim was partially burned. His wife, although in a bad condition, survived. A hotel orderly spotted the smoke coming from under the door and raised the alarm soon after the attack.’
‘Apart from the stabbing, and the hotel-room location, what makes you so sure they’re connected? The burning doesn’t seem to fit.’
‘Circumstances may have dictated a change of approach, Kate, but it was something Anita Shevlin mentioned this morning.’
‘What?’
‘She believed she was being stalked prior to her husband’s death, then afterwards put it down to an overactive imagination. The wife who survived the attack in Rome had the same concerns.’
‘When did it happen?’
‘In 2006.’
‘The year after Pierre Laurent’s murder?’
‘Yes.’
She contemplated the short time span. ‘Have you received the images from Paris yet?’
He didn’t want to tell her they’d come a few hours earlier. ‘Yes, they’ve only just arrived.’
‘I can be there in half an hour. I’ll need to see them. Anything of interest strike you?’
‘Not yet – nothing we don’t already know.’
‘You may be right, but the visuals always tell their own story.’
He didn’t need a lecture from Kate on observational skills. ‘You know where we are whenever you care to visit.’ His tone was deliberately businesslike.
He knew he had to keep a cool head, especially if he intended to remain the golden boy in this investigation. Thinking about O’Connor and Kate, he figured it wouldn’t be long before the two of them started getting cosy. Any fool could see how O’Connor felt about the woman. A police officer with an inclination to let his personal life get in the way wasn’t an ideal choice for Lynch in the investigation. And there was no denying that everyone in the Harcourt Street unit now knew about the guy’s son, and how he’d fucked up his personal life for years. Gossip and innuendo were as important to cops as they were to everyone else, perhaps more so. The more you knew about someone, the more you could turn it to your advantage. He would keep O’Connor under control. If the chief super wanted O’Connor to go to Paris and other jurisdictions, he was placing him in a prime position to shine, and that didn’t settle easily on Lynch’s shoulders. This investigation was a media goldmine: professional victim stabbed in a hotel room, possible bondage issues, the use of an escort, and now the international element. There was enough spin to make any decent tabloid drool.
Swinging around on his desk chair, he pulled the images from Paris up on his PC. The journalists were hovering, looking to get their piece of the action. It wouldn’t take much for a minor leak to multiply and take wings, ending up on the front pages. Gary Egan wouldn’t be happy about that. You’re only ever as good as your last case, and O’Connor’s reputation had already been damaged. If the chief super thought his involvement was drawing heat rather than averting it, that might be enough for him to assign the previously suspended detective to some boring desk duties.