Luke Delaney - The Keeper

As the patrol car bumped along the drive, PC Ingram glanced in the wing mirror at Thomas Keller returning to his derelict property. ‘I can’t believe anyone could actually live in a dump like that,’ he said.

‘If it was me, I’d build a couple of houses on it and make a few quid,’ agreed PC Adams.

‘He was a bit jumpy though, wasn’t he?’

‘Maybe, but he seemed harmless enough. Didn’t come charging at us with an axe in one hand and his cock in the other.’

‘No, he didn’t do that,’ Ingram agreed, ‘but maybe we should have checked the other buildings?’

‘That wasn’t our brief,’ Adams reminded him. ‘They just want us to find possible locations this woman could be at and pass the information on to CID. If they want to, they can get a warrant and search it properly.’

‘I know,’ said Ingram, ‘but I would have liked a look around all the same.’

‘We’ve got another dozen places to check before lunch, on top of this urgent assist. You won’t be so keen to go sniffing around them after we’ve done that lot and filled in the reports.’

‘Maybe not.’

‘Like I said, let CID sort it out.’

‘I didn’t realize Peckham had places like this,’ Anna remarked as she surveyed the tasteful café that sold decent coffee and reasonable food.

‘Probably not what you’re used to, but I like it well enough.’

‘No, I mean it. It’s very nice.’

‘It doesn’t bother me what you think. It’s not like I own the place.’

‘Good to know my opinion means so much to you.’

‘I’ll be honest with you, Anna, the only opinion that really matters to me is my own.’

‘Such as, in your opinion the man who took these women is slowly but surely spiralling out of control?’

‘Something like that.’

‘I noticed you didn’t share that opinion with Superintendent Featherstone.’

‘He wouldn’t understand.’

‘Don’t you think you should have tried?’

‘He’s a good enough cop, but he’s two-dimensional. He only deals with what’s in front of him. He wouldn’t understand.’

‘I can’t say I understand your theory myself. I see no evidence he’ll turn from micro-dramas and personalized victim selection and abuse to something more expressive and grandiose. Also I don’t see him as self-destructive.’

‘He’s not — yet,’ said Sean. ‘But he’s turning that way. When he feels me around the corner he’ll blow up. I promise you.’

‘I suppose we’ll have to agree to disagree. All the same, I find your insights very interesting. Have you ever studied psychology?’

He almost choked on a mouthful of coffee and pastry, coughing drily for several seconds before he was able to answer.

‘I don’t have time for other people’s theories,’ he said. ‘Everything I know, I’ve learned out here, in the real world, dealing with lunatics like Sebastian Gibran. Trust me, when you’re chasing down these people, you learn fast — and you’d better be right or there’ll be hell to pay. There’s no time to sit around for weeks writing theses for other academics to argue the toss over. No offence, but if you get it wrong, who cares? I get it wrong, at best I’ll end up spending the rest of my career in the back of beyond. At worst I’m on Sky News in the evening and on trial for God knows what a few months later.’

‘Surely not?’

‘You don’t believe me? Listen, it’s always the police’s fault. At the end of the day, no matter what, we’ll get the blame. We’re an easy scapegoat. Stephen Lawrence is murdered by a gang of racist thugs — it’s our fault. A bunch of anarchists smash up the West End — it’s our fault because we were too soft. A student gets badly injured on a protest march — it’s our fault because we were too heavy-handed. The News of the World hacks into the phones of publicity-hungry celebrities who probably love the attention — guess what, it’s our fault for not investigating it sooner. We don’t catch this psychopath before he kills again — it’ll be my fault.’

He took an angry bite from his pastry, eyes fixed on Anna as if challenging her to refute his claims. When she remained silent, he continued, ‘Have you any idea what it’s like, working day after day with practically no sleep, forcing yourself to keep going and going, having to tell your wife and your children you won’t be seeing them till God knows when. And then, when you finally get the job done and the baddy’s locked up nice and tight, when you finally get to go home you turn the TV on and what’s the first thing you see? Politicians telling the world it was the police’s fault, that heads will roll. They never mention the good stuff we do, the personal risks we take for the sake of total strangers, the thousands of seriously nasty bastards we take off the streets every year. Sometimes it makes you want to chuck it all in, walk away.’

‘I’d never thought about like that,’ Anna confessed. ‘It can’t be easy.’

‘No. No it’s not.’

‘How do you feel when you see the news coverage of murder cases?’

‘You’re not trying to analyse me again, are you?’

‘No. Just interested in a police perspective.’

‘They make me angry,’ he said. ‘They treat it like a reality show, titillation for the masses. If they’d ever been inside a real murder scene, on their own, before it had been cleaned up, they wouldn’t sound so excited. You can tell they’ve never had the taste of death in their mouths. It lingers for days, no matter how many times you brush your teeth or rinse with mouthwash. But then again, how many people have? Have you?’

‘I want to ask you a question, Sean, and obviously you don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to.’

‘I can’t stop you asking it.’

‘Did something happen to you, when you were younger?’

‘No,’ he lied.

‘Some trauma perhaps, a serious injury or critical situation you encountered while doing your job?’

‘Plenty, but no one thing. Why?’

‘Sometimes you display the traits of someone suffering from a type of post-traumatic-stress syndrome.’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘It’s as if your insights are driven more by memory than imagination.’

She was getting too close and he didn’t like it. ‘You want to know if I can think like the people I spend my life trying to catch? The answer is yes,’ he told her. ‘But if you want to know how I do it, then I’m sorry, the answer is I don’t know. Am I comfortable with it? No — but if I can use it to save lives and lock up some very bad people then I’ll use it, no matter how uncomfortable it is.’

‘That kind of self-sacrifice can be damaging. Who looks after you while you’re looking after everybody else?’

‘My wife. My children. Myself.’

‘Sounds a little insular.’

‘To you maybe. Not to me.’

‘You don’t like talking about yourself, do you?’

‘No, I don’t, so let’s not. Besides, I’ve found a way you can finally be useful to me.’ He didn’t stop to think how that sounded.

‘Wow, thanks.’

‘You’ve spoken to DS Jones?’

‘Sally? Yes.’

‘You know what happened to her. You read the report, before you interviewed Gibran.’

‘I did, but anything Sally may have told me would be subject to patient confidentiality. I can’t discuss it with anyone.’

‘Appreciated, but all I want to know is whether there’s a serious problem there. Am I doing the right thing by letting her come to work, or should I re-think things?’

‘Isolation won’t help her, but I can’t say anything else. Understand?’

‘Understood. Loud and clear.’

‘Just don’t put her in harm’s way or expect too much from her.’