‘No. Don’t stop, Bryony. It’s good,’ he said, taking her hand and placing it back.
She nodded and smiled. The light from the cinema screen was reflected in her huge glasses. He closed his eyes as Bryony started to rub again. His thoughts went back to Kayla. How she smelt, her dark skin with the tattoos. He unbuckled his trousers and pulled down the waistband of his boxer shorts. He felt the cold air on his hard penis and opened his eyes again.
‘Go on. Put it in your mouth,’ he said.
‘Oh my,’ said Bryony, looking down and breathing heavily, her eyes behind her glasses filled with awe.
Oh my God, she’s never seen a penis before, thought Darryl. This turned him on even more.
‘Your lips are so beautiful,’ he said.
‘Thank you,’ she said, putting a hand to her mouth.
‘Go on, put my big dick between those beautiful lips.’
Bryony nodded and eased off her chair awkwardly and onto her knees, taking him cautiously in her mouth. Darryl felt both thrilled and disgusted. He gripped the back of her head and pushed her down. She gagged and pulled back a little, but he held onto her ears and thrust in and out of her mouth. She made slurping squelching sounds for a couple of minutes, and then he climaxed, gripping the hair at the back of her head, as she made more gulping gagging sounds.
She sat back on the floor between the cinema seats, breathless, and looking a little shocked as he tucked himself back in, and did up his flies.
‘Was that alright?’ she asked, wiping her mouth.
‘That. Was very good,’ he said, giving her the thumbs up.
Her face lit up with a huge smile. ‘Oh, I’m so pleased!’ She started to heave herself back up into her seat, but knocked over their popcorn. ‘Ow, I think I’ve got cramp,’ she hissed.
‘It’s okay,’ he said, getting up. ‘You sit down.’ He picked up the two boxes. ‘I’ll go and get us some more.’
‘Thanks,’ she said, sitting awkwardly and rubbing at her leg.
‘Was it salty or sweet?’
‘Salty… but I think now I fancy sweet,’ she said, swallowing again. ‘And can you get me something to drink?’
Darryl grinned and went off to the snack bar downstairs.
Chapter Fifty-Eight
After lunch with Marsh, Erika returned to West End Central. She’d been working with the team for the rest of the afternoon and early evening on the information Marsh had given her. At eight thirty, Melanie came back to the station, and she and Erika had a meeting in her office.
‘I’m going to request specific data on the employees who live around Greater London, on the borders,’ said Erika. ‘Specifically, males aged between twenty-one and thirty-five.’
‘And this is from the waste management company, Genesis?’ asked Melanie, looking over the document Erika had prepared. ‘What evidence do you have to back up a request like this?’
‘We’ve spent a long time looking at the locations where the bodies were dumped, trying to find patterns, repeat behaviours. We know he goes for the same type of girl. The only other similarity is that they have all been dumped in general waste recycling bins specific to the Genesis recycling company.’
‘Erika, do you think this can be classed as a similarity? Do you know how many households there are in Central London?’
‘I would hazard a guess at—’
‘This afternoon I sat through three meetings discussing crime statistics and burglaries. There are 886,000 people in Greater London who own their household but have a mortgage; some 862,000 people rent privately from a landlord; social housing accounts for 786,000 homes, and 690,000 people own their home outright.’
‘You remembered those figures?’
‘They were drummed into us repeatedly,’ she said. ‘But my point is, they have one thing in common. Their refuse needs, or should I say rubbish collection, is done by Genesis. That’s 2.6 million homes. Add to that the millions of businesses that operate in London. And Genesis is one of the largest waste management companies in Europe with 400,000 employees. You think we can just go in there and request data on their staff?’
‘We know that he drives a Citro?n C3,’ added Erika desperately.
‘Oh, well, that narrows it down even more. It’s only one of the most popular cars bought in the past five years. Do you think that Genesis would keep records of the cars their employees drive? Or shall we also go ahead and put in a general request from the DVLA for every driver of a Citro?n C3 in the Greater London area?’
Erika paused.
‘I’ve already done that, and we’re working through a colossal list of names. We’re first working through males who have previous criminal records.’
‘But as far as we know, this guy isn’t in the system?’ said Melanie. ‘We have his DNA but he’s never been sampled, which leads me to think he’s never been arrested.’
Erika sighed. ‘Melanie. I have to start somewhere. We’ve tried tracing the car from the CCTV footage, following its progress through the CCTV network, but without a number plate and the amount of Citro?n C3s there are on the roads, it’s impossible.’
Melanie sat back and took a swig of her coffee.
‘I know, Erika…Anything you do would have to stand up in court. There are data protection issues, manpower issues. Are you aware that, as well as our issues with the Gadd family who are shareholders in Genesis, two major shareholders sit on the board of the IPCC, who are already dealing with a complaint from the parents of Ella Wilkinson?’
Erika nodded. ‘But it might lead to a breakthrough; we may have something in all that data that cracks this before he takes another young woman.’
‘We don’t know he’s—,’ started Melanie.
‘He’s taken three, and the gaps between the abduction and murders are getting shorter. Melanie, I work on my gut instinct.’
‘So do dictators, and megalomaniacs,’ she said, not unkindly. ‘Look, come to me with something more concrete, tailored and specific. Narrow down who you are looking for, a location where they might work. Genesis has seventeen offices in Central London. Another forty-six nationwide. I will, of course, turn over every resource I have at my disposal, but I can’t write a blank cheque for you to cast a wide net and see what you can catch.’
Erika stared at her despondently, and then nodded. ‘Keep me in the loop. Close the door on your way out.’
* * *
Peterson was waiting downstairs in the station foyer when Erika emerged from the lift. She relayed the conversation she’d just had with Melanie.
‘What are you going to do?’ he asked.
‘I don’t know. I need to think. I need to work out a way to find a needle in a haystack.’
‘Would pizza and beer at my place help?’ he said as they walked out and into the cold air.
‘Yes,’ she grinned. ‘Yes it would.’
Chapter Fifty-Nine