‘Nothing, I’m afraid. We’ve got DNA on file, so if he’s ever nicked for something else we’ll get a match, although our chances of a prosecution are slim, even then.’
‘Why’s that?’ An arrest was what Kelly had hoped for, ever since she joined the job, when she realised how many historic crimes were solved not by dogged investigation work, but by sheer chance. An elimination swab submitted after a burglary at work; an evidential sample taken after a positive roadside breath test. That sharp intake of breath, when a simple job turns into so much more, and a crime committed twenty years previously is finally solved. It had happened to Kelly a couple of times, and it was what she wanted now more than anything. Kelly had never seen the man who raped Lexi, but she could almost visualise the arrogance on his face morphing into fear; a relatively innocuous charge paling into insignificance beside the positive DNA match that would prove unequivocally he had stalked her sister; watched her; attacked her.
‘There’s a letter from the victim on file,’ DC Green was saying. ‘A Miss Alexis Swift. The letter says that although the evidence given in her written statement still stands, she does not support a prosecution, and does not wish to be informed of any developments in the case.’
‘But that’s impossible!’ It was out before Kelly could stop it, her voice echoing in the empty corridor. She could hear DC Green’s confusion in the silence that followed. ‘I mean, why would a victim retract her support? It doesn’t make sense.’
‘There’s no explanation, just the signed declaration. Maybe it wasn’t quite as cut-and-dried as she’d put forward in her initial statement? Perhaps it was someone she knew, after all; maybe she consented then changed her mind.’
Kelly fought for control. An image of Lexi flashed into her mind; curled up in an armchair in the police rape suite, too broken even to stand up when Kelly arrived, every speed limit from Brighton to Durham ignored. Lexi dressed in borrowed clothes that didn’t fit, her own in paper bags, neatly labelled and forensically sealed. Lexi on the medical examiner’s bed, tears escaping from beneath closed lids; her hand squeezing Kelly’s so tightly it left a mark. There was nothing consensual about what happened to Lexi.
‘Yeah, maybe,’ she said lightly. ‘Well, thanks for calling back. I don’t think it’s part of our series, but you never know.’ She ended the call and turned around, pressing her forehead against the cool plaster of the wall.
‘If you want to meditate, Kelly, perhaps you could do it in your own time.’
She wheeled round to see Nick in his running gear, his trainers quiet on the stairs behind her. Dark patches circled his armpits and dotted the front of his T-shirt.
‘Sorry, boss, I was just taking five.’ Kelly’s mind was racing. What had Lexi done? And why?
‘You’ve had them. I’m going for a shower. I’ll see you in the briefing room in ten minutes.’
Kelly forced herself to focus on the job in hand. ‘You were right about the Maidstone rape; I’ve given the details to Lucinda.’
‘Okay. Let Kent police know they’re off the hook. We’ll take over from here. First things first, though; I’ve asked Cyber Crime to come and enlighten us as to what the fuck they’ve been doing for the last two days. You can’t move without leaving a digital footprint nowadays; just how hard can it be to ID the person behind this website?’
‘Very hard,’ Andrew Robinson said. ‘He’s covered his tracks too well. The details for the site are registered in the Cayman Islands.’
‘The Cayman Islands? Is that where he’s running the website from?’ Kelly said.
Nick looked at her. ‘Don’t get excited – you’re not going off on some Caribbean jolly.’
‘It doesn’t mean the offender’s there,’ Andrew said, ‘only that his contact details are held there. It won’t surprise you to know there’s no love lost between the British police and the Cayman Islands – the chances of us getting the information we need from them are zero. However, what it did give us was the IP address of where the website is answering from.’ Andrew took in Kelly’s and Nick’s blank faces and started again. ‘Basically, when I look up a domain it sends a signal out to that website. If the website doesn’t exist, we don’t get a response, but if it does – as in this case – the reply tells us not only where the domain details are held, but which device is being used to join that particular network. So, for example’ – he indicated Nick’s phone, which was on the table in front of them – ‘if you were to log on to, say, Internet banking now, that website would record the IP address of your phone, enabling us to track you.’