Luke Delaney - The Keeper

‘Phone me as soon as you find anything.’

Sean hung up, immediately leaping to his feet and striding into the main office, one hand raised to warn the occupants he wanted their full and immediate attention. Donnelly saw him first and quickly made his way to Sean’s side. ‘Where’s Sally?’ Sean asked.

‘Chasing down some dead-end leads from Featherstone’s TV appeal. Why? What’s going on?’

Ignoring the question, Sean called out: ‘All right everybody, listen up.’

Donnelly decided he hadn’t shouted loudly enough. ‘Whatever you’re doing,’ he boomed, ‘stop doing it and start listening.’

The office fell silent as all heads turned towards Sean.

‘Thanks,’ he told Donnelly before addressing the rest of the room. ‘As soon as this briefing’s over I’ll be emailing you all a photograph of a woman called Deborah Thomson. She just became our third victim.’ The room filled with disgruntled murmurs of disbelief. ‘Last time anyone saw her alive and well was when she left work sometime shortly after 2 p.m. yesterday. She failed to meet friends for a night out and didn’t turn up this morning to meet her boyfriend for breakfast. She’s not answering her phones and there’s no answer at her home address and her car is missing. When you see her photograph and read her physical description you’ll understand why I believe the man we’re after has taken her. Her abduction means more crime scenes to examine, more door-to-door, more roadblocks, more witnesses to trace, more everything — so call your wives, your husbands, girlfriends, boyfriends, whoever and let them know they won’t be seeing much of you for a while, not until we find this prick and bury him. Eat as and when you can, sleep where and when you can, but do it on the hoof. Our chances of finding Louise Russell alive are shrinking by the hour, so you’re all going to have to push yourselves to the limit. Any of you feel you’re beginning to unravel, speak to me or Dave and we’ll see what we can do. Paulo — ’ Sean turned towards Zukov.

‘Yes, guv’nor.’

‘How are you getting on with the transfer found on Karen Green?’

‘I’m speaking with the companies that make that sort of thing, but so far it means nothing to them. They’ve promised to check through their back catalogues, but it’s going to take time.’

‘Well, keep on them. I want to know everything about it as soon as possible.’

‘Why’s it so important?’ Zukov challenged. ‘It’s a mass-produced transfer, nothing unique, so why waste our time on it?’

‘Keep looking,’ Sean snapped back. ‘I’ll decide what is and isn’t important. Understand?’

Zukov knew when to wind his neck in. ‘Yes, boss.’

‘Everybody needs to keep pushing,’ Sean reminded them. ‘Get your actions from Dave and Sally and do them immediately. As soon as they’re complete, come back for more — and there will be more. Keep on the move, you don’t have to come back here to tell me what’s going on: use your mobiles, email me — tweet me, if you have to, but keep on the move. Make something happen, don’t just wait for it to. Fiona?’

DC Cahill straightened. ‘Yes, guv’nor?’

‘Get hold of Sergeant Roddis and tell him the good news about our new scene.’ She nodded her understanding. ‘And everybody needs to be aware our man could be disguising himself as a postman. I think that’s how he gets the front doors open.’

‘Where’s that information come from?’ one of the weary detectives asked.

‘A witness I spoke to,’ Sean replied, keen to avoid details. ‘I also think he could be posting junk mail in the streets he’s taking the women from, so he blends in better. When you’re doing your door-to-doors, ask the occupants if they’ve had any junk mail in the last couple of days. If they have and they’ve kept it, seize it and preserve it for forensics. Everybody clear?’

The response was a mix of mumbled agreement and softly spoken questions.

‘Just one more thing — ’ Sean looked around the room, meeting their eyes, making sure the message hit home — ‘the pub’s off limits until this one’s in the bag. I can’t afford to lose a single soul, especially not to hangovers.’

The mumbling grew louder. Sean ignored it and headed back into his office, closely followed by Donnelly.

Sean slumped into a chair and waited for the inevitable cross-examination.

‘Disguised as a postie, eh? Interesting idea,’ Donnelly began.

‘One of Louise Russell’s neighbours had junk-mail deliveries stopped, but round about the time she was taken he got a pile through the door. He was not a happy man.’

‘That’s it? One neighbour and a bit of junk mail?’

‘It makes sense. That’s how he gets the doors open without anyone thinking too much about it. It’s probably how he researches the woman as well. Who’s going to pay attention to a postie walking along the street? Which sorting office covers the venues?’

‘Sorting office?’ said Donnelly. ‘Hang about, I thought you were looking for someone disguising themselves as a postie. Why the interest in sorting offices?’

‘I have to consider the possibility our man’s a real postman.’

‘Consider it, or believe it?’

‘The more I think about it, the more it makes sense that he could be a real postman. Everything he needed to know he could have found out by reading their mail. Where they work, whether they were married or had a partner, whether they had children. He could even have found out when Karen Green was due to leave for Australia. Everything he needs to know comes straight to him through the mail. If he was just disguising himself as a postman he’d have to watch them for weeks and hours at a time — constantly having to re-visit them to make sure nothing’s changed. But if he’s a real postman …’

‘He only needs to monitor the mail.’ Donnelly gave a low whistle. ‘A fucking postie. Why didn’t you tell the rest of the team?’

‘Featherstone gave me the gypsy’s warning about openly mentioning the postman theory. Doesn’t want posties getting the shit kicked out of them all over south-east London, so keep it on a need-to-know basis for the time being.’

‘Fair enough,’ Donnelly agreed. ‘And it’s South Norwood — the sorting office that covers our venues.’

‘All three?’

Donnelly scrunched his eyes as he tried to recall previous inquiries that had involved checking mail coverage zones. ‘Aye, I’m pretty sure it covers all three.’

‘OK,’ Sean sighed. ‘Let’s go there.’ He jumped from his chair and started gathering his belongings.

‘The sorting office?’ Donnelly checked.

‘Why not?’

‘Surely the scene’s more important?’

‘No,’ Sean disagreed, looking for Sally’s number in his iPhone. She answered it within a few rings.

‘Sally, we’ve had another abduction.’

‘I know. Paulo texted me.’

‘I need you to check out the victim’s home address. Fiona will meet you there. I’ll get her to send you the address. As soon as you find anything, let me know.’ He hung up before she could protest, stalking through the main office until he found DC Cahill at her desk on the phone.

‘Just a second,’ she told the person on the other end, covered the mouthpiece with her hand and looked at Sean.

‘Fiona, I need you to text the victim’s address to DS Jones and then get down to the scene and meet her there.’

‘OK,’ Cahill agreed without question.

‘Any luck with Roddis?’

‘I’m on the phone to them now.’

‘Good. Have the informant meet you at the address. Find out everything you can from him.’

‘Her boyfriend?’

‘Yes,’ confirmed Sean. ‘And get the details of her missing car. If our man’s following his normal pattern, he would have taken it and dumped it in a park or woods. We need to find and preserve it.’