M. Arlidge - Little Boy Blue

‘Forgive me for revisiting painful memories, but you said when we talked before that there was someone else in Jake’s life? A woman he had feelings for?’

Simons stared at her, clearly unhappy to be reminded of this.

‘I know this is difficult for you,’ Emilia continued, ‘but it’s really important. What did Jake tell you about the nature of their relationship?’

‘Not a lot – I had to prise it out of him.’

‘And?’

‘And it was complicated. At first, he denied he had feelings for this woman. Then he said he was over her, but I’m not sure that was true either. He used to follow her around at one time, after she’d dropped him -’

‘He stalked her?’

‘I didn’t say that. But he had issues… letting go.’

‘So what happened?’

‘She walloped him,’ Simons said, smiling grimly.

‘She attacked him?’

‘He gave her a fright and got what was coming to him. She lamped him with her motorcycle helmet, I think, and he left her alone after that. He didn’t like telling me of course, but I needed to know everything. For all the good it did me…’

Emilia hesitated – scribbling down ‘motorcycle helmet’ – then asked:

‘You mentioned that you saw them together once – Jake and this woman. Did you see her face?’

‘Only for a moment, but I was intrigued so…’

‘Would you recognize her now?’

‘Why? Why are you asking me these questions?’

‘Look, David, I know this probably seems odd but I’m trying to put together the fullest picture of Jake’s life that I can. For reasons that you’ll understand in time, I’m not convinced we can have full confidence in the police investigation and somebody needs to carry on the fight on Jake’s behalf.’

Simons looked at her and then said:

‘Yes, I think I would.’

Emilia delved into her bag. Pulling a photo from inside, she laid it on the table.

‘Is this her?’

Simons leant forward. Emilia watched him closely. She was trying to remain calm, but her heart was in her mouth. Finally, Simons looked up at her and said:

‘Yes, it is.’

Angelique lay on the bed, her eyes glued to the television. The news was on, leading with the latest developments in the Jake Elder case and the early-evening audience were being treated to grabbed images of Michael Parker – ‘Samantha’ – scurrying back to his flat while being harried by local journalists.

Despite her height, Samantha looked so diminished, so pathetic, that it was a wonder the police ever had her in the frame. She was clearly a nasty piece of work, but did they really believe she had the organizational skills to pull off such an intricate double murder? Details of Paine’s death had seeped out online, triggering a wave of reaction on social media. Some commentators were sickened, others strangely impressed by the elaborate nature of the crime. But nobody had publicly pointed the finger at Samantha, despite the common practice these days of trial by innuendo. That should have told the police something – sometimes it pays to listen to the word on the street.

As it was, they had accused two innocent people with predictable results. What would Samantha do now? She had always been wound tight – how would she react now to the shit storm that was coming her way? Huddling up inside her stale little flat with nobody to comfort her but her dollies? It wouldn’t be at all surprising if she went the same way as Paul Jackson, though something told Angelique that Samantha might be rather more effective at finishing the job.

What were Grace and her team doing now? Now that they were back to square one? Did they still have faith in their leader? Would they trust her to get a result? Not knowing was tantalizing, but there was nothing to be done about it. The next few days would reveal everything and in the meantime there was nothing for Angelique to do but watch and wait.

‘I want us to look again at the credit cards.’

Helen had made Charlie jump when she appeared by her desk. However long you worked with her you never got used to her stealth.

‘We’ve run them several times,’ Charlie replied quickly. ‘Both credit card owners used many of the same stores and internet sites, so the point of fraud is going to be hard to pin down. Look at the list – Amazon, Ticketmaster, Trainline, Sainsbury’s, Gumtree, iTunes, Pets at Home -’

‘Let’s come at it from another angle then. If it’s internet fraud, then it’s going to be virtually impossible to trace, so let’s focus on the retail outlets. We’ve been assuming that our killer has specifically cloned cards to facilitate these murders. But it’s more likely he was involved in petty crime first, only later graduating up to more serious offences.’

‘So we want to look for seasoned credit card fraudsters -’

‘Exactly. Get on to the local outlets that the fraud victims used regularly. It would be easy enough for an employee to lift their details when ringing through a transaction, so let’s see if any employees – past or present – had form for credit card fraud. Don’t limit yourself to recent offences – this kind of crime is a long time in the making.’

‘But if they’re on file, wouldn’t we have got a match to a DNA source at one of the crime sites?’

‘Not necessarily. It may be they were questioned but never charged. Or it may be that our killer is just too cautious. He didn’t even touch Paine, yet managed to kill him. The same may be true of Jake Elder.’

Charlie nodded, but it was a depressing thought. Were they chasing shadows?

‘I originally thought forensics would be crucial, given the lack of credible witnesses,’ Helen continued. ‘But now I don’t think we even have that luxury. So we’re looking for tiny mistakes, small pieces of the puzzle that put together -’

‘Lead us to our man. You should know, though, that even with just the retail outlets highlighted it’s a seriously long list -’

‘I know it’s a needle in a haystack -’

‘Look, I’m happy to do it, of course I am.’

‘Good. Thank you.’

Helen turned to go, but Charlie had more to say.

‘Look, Helen, I know I said too much yesterday.’

‘It’s not your fault, Charlie, it’s mine.’

‘Whatever, I just wanted to let you know that I’m really sorry and that I’ll do whatever is necessary to help you break this case.’

‘Thank you.’

Helen should’ve gone further, apologizing for her erratic behaviour, but she didn’t really trust herself and something in Charlie’s demeanour meant it wasn’t necessary. The mark of a true friend.

‘Call me if you find anything,’ Helen said, turning to leave.

‘Sure. Where are you going?’

Helen paused in the doorway of the incident room and turned back to Charlie.

‘To climb inside the mind of a killer.’

Control. Sadism. Restraint. Victim. Dominator. Knowledge. Power.

Anger. Disgust. Self-hatred. Pain.

Helen scribbled fast, covering the white board with her scrawl. She had commandeered one of the more remote interview suites, covering the table with files and dropping the blinds. She wanted to be alone with the perpetrator, testing their rudimentary profile of him again to see if she’d missed anything obvious. She read through their behavioural indicators, probable motives, evidence analysis, trying to picture what went through their killer’s mind at the point of death.

‘Can I join you?’

Surprised, Helen looked up to find Jonathan Gardam standing in the doorway.

‘Sorry, I was miles away. Come in.’