‘You’ve got other witnesses though, haven’t you? Other crimes? Those poor girls who were killed – those are the crimes that matter, not mine.’
‘They’re all important, Cathy. We wouldn’t investigate them if we didn’t believe that.’
‘Thank you. And if I thought my evidence would make all the difference, I’d give it, I promise. But it won’t, will it?’
Kelly didn’t answer.
‘I have a friend who gave evidence in a case last year,’ Cathy said. ‘She got hassled for months by the offender’s family. I don’t need that sort of aggravation. I’ve got a chance to make a fresh start, in a brand-new house no one else has the keys for. It was a scary thing to happen but I wasn’t hurt – I just want to forget about it.’
‘Can I at least let you know when we charge someone? In case you change your mind?’
There was a lengthy pause.
‘I guess so. But I won’t change my mind, Kelly. I know putting someone behind bars is important, but surely how I feel must count for something, too?’
It was always about the victims, Kelly thought, annoyed by the suggestion that it wasn’t. She had thought Cathy one of the more reliable witnesses in this case, and she was disappointed to be proved wrong. She opened her mouth to warn Cathy her refusal to give evidence could well result in her being treated as a hostile witness; held in contempt of court for failing to cooperate.
Then she stopped. Did the pursuit of justice ever justify treating a victim as though they were in the dock? Thoughts of Lexi arrived unbidden in her head. She took a deep breath before speaking.
‘The way victims feel is the only thing that matters. Thanks for letting me know, Cathy.’ Kelly ended the call, leaning against the wall and shutting her eyes; walking back to the incident room only when she was confident she had her emotions under control. Briefing had finished and the MIT office was once again buzzing with activity. She walked over to where Andrew Robinson was sitting next to Nick, and moved a chair from a nearby desk so she could join them.
‘Still following the money?’ Kelly asked, remembering the phrase the Cyber Crime DC had used at their last meeting.
‘We certainly are. I’ve tracked the credit card payments from the DI, from Gordon Tillman and from Luke Harris, all of which have been paid into a PayPal account – like this.’ Andrew took a blank sheet from the printer and wrote three names – RAMPELLO, TILLMAN, HARRIS. ‘The money goes from these three sources’ – he drew arrows from each of the names – ‘to here’ – Andrew sketched a box around the word ‘PayPal’ – ‘then continues to here.’ An arrow, and another box, this time around the words ‘Bank Account’.
‘And this account belongs to our offender. Right?’ Nick said.
‘Spot on.’
‘Can we get the details?’
‘Already got them.’ Andrew caught Kelly’s hopeful expression. ‘It’s a student account in the name of Mai Suo Li. I’ve got copies of the identification documents used to open it, and they’re all kosher; passport control confirms Mai Suo Li left the UK for China on July tenth this year and hasn’t returned.’
‘Could he be operating the site from China?’
‘It’s possible, but I can tell you now we won’t get anywhere with the Chinese authorities.’
It was making Kelly’s head hurt.
‘In the meantime I can tell you your offender uses a Samsung device to transfer funds from PayPal to the bank account. I can’t say whether it’s a phone, a tablet, or a laptop, but it’s a safe bet it’s something portable.’
‘How do you know?’ Kelly said.
‘Every time your phone is turned on it sends signals out as it searches for Wi-Fi or Bluetooth. If it was a home computer you’d expect a fixed location, but the results suggest a degree of thought into avoiding detection.’ Andrew handed a piece of paper to Nick, who moved his chair a fraction so Kelly could see it too. ‘If the Wi-Fi was switched on all the time I’d expect hundreds more locations, but as you can see, they’re few and far between. This suggests the device is being turned on only for specific purposes; almost certainly to transfer money from PayPal to the account. My guess is this is a dirty phone, not his regular one.’
Typed on to the sheet of paper was a list of locations. The top one was underlined.
Espress Oh!
‘What’s that?’
‘A coffee shop near Leicester Square, and our man’s preferred location for activity on his dirty phone. On three occasions in the last month he’s used their Wi-Fi to transfer money from PayPal to his bank account. You’ll find the dates and times below.’
‘Nice work,’ Nick said.