his question as soon as it was out of his mouth. Sally unflinchingly held his gaze, her misting eyes accusing him. His desk phone saved him from making it worse by ringing before he had a chance to say sorry, the last thing Sally wanted to hear. He snatched it like a drowning man reaching for a life-jacket. ‘DI Corrigan.’
‘Andy Roddis here,’ announced the forensic team leader. ‘Bad news, I’m afraid. No match on file for the prints we lifted from the Russell home. Sorry.’
‘Damn it,’ Sean said calmly, despite the twisting in his guts. ‘I wasn’t expecting that.’
‘Nor me,’ Roddis confided.
‘What about the car? Anything yet?’
‘Too soon to tell, but I expect to at least find his prints. They won’t help us identify him prior to his arrest, but once we have him they’ll certainly help get a conviction.’
‘OK. Thanks, Andy. Keep me posted.’ He hung up and turned to the others. ‘His prints aren’t on file.’ They knew what it meant – the man they were looking for had no convictions.
‘I was bloody sure this one would have previous, even if it was just a bit of flashing on Bromley Common,’ Donnelly said.
‘It’s unfortunate,’ Sean agreed. ‘But there must be something in his past. He may not have been convicted, but you can bet he’ll have been arrested and charged somewhere down the line. This guy is in our records, we just need to dig around till we find him: run checks on local sexual offenders who’ve come to our notice but have never been convicted of anything. And let’s check on any local stalkers – top-end only though, not ones who’ve gone after celebrities and footballers. Concentrate on the care-in-the-community types. Our boy hasn’t just jumped in at this level, he’s been building up to this for years, convictions or no convictions. Anything else?’
‘Sounds straightforward enough,’ Donnelly said. ‘All we need now is about another hundred detectives and we’ll have him nicked by lunchtime tomorrow.’
‘Well, that ain’t going to happen,’ Sean confirmed what he already knew. ‘So let’s do the best we can with what we’ve—’
A ripple of disturbance from the main office caused him to break off and look through the Perspex that separated him from his team. Featherstone was making his way across the main office, stopping periodically, handing out pep talks to one and all en route.
‘Heads up, people,’ Sean warned Sally and Donnelly. A few seconds later Featherstone was knocking on his office door frame and entering without being invited.
‘Afternoon, boss,’ Sean said. ‘Only a step backwards since we last spoke, I’m afraid.’
‘How so?’
‘It appears whoever we’re looking for has no previous. Prints found at the Russells’ house came back “no match”.’
‘That sounds unlikely.’ Featherstone raised an eyebrow.
‘Unlikely or not, it’s a fact. And any DNA we find will go the same way.’
‘So,’ Featherstone continued, ‘we’ll have to find him by old-fashioned means – shoe leather and hard work, folks.’
‘With respect, sir,’ said Sally, ‘we’re going to need more than that if we want to catch him quickly.’
‘Agreed,’ Featherstone contradicted himself. ‘Which is why I’ve sorted out a media blitz. ITV and BBC will put out an appeal for information on their local channels tonight, with a special appearance by yours truly. I’m still working on Sky, but they’re holding out for more details than we want to give them at this time.’
‘What about the papers?’ Sean asked.
‘The papers will follow the TV channels’ lead.’ He made a show of looking at his watch. ‘Right, I need to be at the Yard by six to meet the TV people, so I’m off. Keep me posted.’ Dismissing them with a nod, he strode out of the office.
‘God save us from senior officers,’ Donnelly said when Featherstone was well away.
‘He’s not so bad,’ Sean reminded him. ‘We could do a lot worse.’
‘If you say so.’ Sean let it slide. ‘Me, I’m off to chase my daily quota of useless leads.’ Meaning he was heading to the pub, Sean thought. ‘Care to give me a hand, Sally?’
‘Not just now,’ she answered. ‘I need to tidy a few things up, make a few phone calls.’
‘Suit yourself,’ sniffed Donnelly. ‘Then I shall bid you farewell. If I don’t see you later, I’ll see you tomorrow.’ With that he headed for the main office in search of recruits to buy him a drink.
‘He’s got the right idea,’ Sean told Sally.
‘How so?’ she asked.
‘Get some rest and recreation now, while you still can. I get the definite feeling this will be the last chance for some time. Once that media appeal goes out, the spotlight will fall on us.’
‘Just go home and forget about Louise Russell until tomorrow?’
‘That’s not what I meant,’ said Sean. ‘It’s just things are going to start happening tomorrow, I can feel it. And they’re not going to stop until this case is finished, one way or another.’
‘You think she’s already dead, don’t you?’
Sean sat heavily in his chair, caught off balance by her question.
‘Maybe not … It depends on his cycle.’
‘What cycle?’
‘Just an idea,’ Sean explained. ‘A theory.’
‘What theory?’ she demanded, losing patience with his secrecy.
‘He’s taking a lot of risks. Calculated risks, but risks all the same. He doesn’t just do to them whatever it is he wants to do in their homes, because he needs more time with them. And if he needs time with them then the chances are there is a timescale. I think he fantasized about her for a while before taking her and transporting her into his living fantasy – a fantasy that will have a beginning, middle and end. All of which suggests a timescale. It might be a week, a month – I don’t know yet.’
‘Or it might be a lot less?’ Sally questioned.
‘Might be,’ Sean admitted. ‘There’s no way of telling until he releases her or we find her.’
‘Find her body, you mean.’
‘We have to be prepared for that possibility.’
‘Possibility or probability?’ Sally asked.
‘You know how this works.’ Sean shrugged. ‘Look, if it’s too much too soon, I’d understand. If you want to keep this one at arm’s length it’s not a problem. I can make that happen.’
‘Don’t make allowances for me.’
‘You’ve got nothing to prove,’ he told her and meant it. She didn’t reply. ‘Go home, Sally. Get some rest. I’ll call you if anything happens.’
She slowly rose and headed for the door, turning when she got there. ‘One thing …’
‘Go on,’ said Sean.
‘I want to be in on the interviews. When we catch him, I want to sit in on the interviews.’
‘OK.’ Sean granted the request, knowing why she needed to sit in. She nodded once and left him alone.
Sean scanned the office for anyone heading his way. When he was happy no one would require his immediate attention, he lifted the phone on his desk and punched in a sequence of numbers. It was answered on the fifth ring.
‘Hello.’
‘Dr