My nemesis.”

“I’m Patsy, not Vida. Patsy Lumis! Remember me, Jack?” She was screaming and weeping. “I’m at college! I’m not Vida—whoever she is.”

“Don’t you dare! You stupid bitch! Vida is my life; my one true love. Do you understand, slut? So if I say you’re Vida, then that’s who you are—is that clear?”

Patsy Lumis nodded furiously. He was crazy; totally insane. She wanted to scream again, run, grab hold of something and hit him around the head until she knocked him out. But she couldn’t. She was too weak, and she was frozen to the spot with fear.

Chapter 15

Day Six

“CCTV’s in from the undertakers,” Rocco told Calladine, as he entered the incident room the next morning. “We’ve got a blurry image of a bloke wearing dark clothing and a face mask—Mickey Mouse, I think.”

“He went prepared, then.” The DI shook his head. “We’ve possibly got another one now, so get the image enhanced—anything that helps, because we could really do with a break on this.”

“Well he’s tall and young, I’d say. It’s the way he moves, and the weight of the girl doesn’t seem to bother him.”

That was something at least.

“Her laptop’s full of conversations she had with him, sir,” Imogen reported. “But there’s nothing to pinpoint who he is or where he’s from. He gives nothing away. Madison writes loads, but gets only short messages back. He must have something else, because his messaging skills are rubbish.”

“Did he send her any photos?”

“I don’t know. She has such a lot of stuff on here—photos she’s taken and stuff from the social networking site—and I’ve no idea who I’m looking for.”

“Order them by date if you can. That might help, given we have a rough idea of the timescale.” He turned to Ruth.

“What time’s the press briefing?”

“Scheduled for ten,” Ruth answered.

“You look awful. What’s happened?”

“I think I must’ve caught something from being around all those students—or eaten something bad in that canteen of theirs.”

“You didn’t eat though, did you?” He turned back to Imogen.

“Have you cracked Patsy’s laptop yet?”

“That one’s not password protected, so it didn’t pose any problems. But it’s the same story—lots from her and virtually nothing from him. But I’ll keep at it.”

“Right—we’d better get down there, Ruth. Is the DCI coming?’

“Yep—if nothing else he’ll want to look as if he actually knows what’s going on. Have you solved the problem of the phone calls, sir?”

“I think I might have. Jo, Zoe’s friend, has a contact in the States—a lieutenant in the NYPD no less. We’re going to Skype when she’s set it up.”

“Impressive. Where’s he based?”

“Queens.” He shrugged. He had no idea where Queens was.

“Serena was from Queens, so this could be a break, sir.”

Calladine doubted that. People in New York wouldn’t have the info from the university or Serena’s friends that they had. At best, all they’d have would be a missing persons report.

“How much do we tell them—the boys from the press?”

“No point in holding back, but we won’t tell them about the mouth thing, not yet. This time they could be a real help. In fact we need a damn good response to whatever they print. Do you have the photos in that folder you’re clutching?”

“I’ve got copies of the e-fit and some photos of Madison taken off her computer.”

“Someone may have seen her with him, so it’s worth circulating.”

“Joanna Johnson has emailed us a good photo of Patsy, and one of Serena, so we’ll give those out as well. We may get lucky, sir.

Photos in the papers, a radio shout, and a mention in the local TV news. It all helps.”

* * *

The same faces stared back at them in the room where they had met for a briefing during the Handy Man case. Calladine felt a pang of regret. There was no chance of Lydia being involved this time, none at all. Pity, because he missed her. And she would have been damned helpful.

He sat between Ruth and the DCI and gave an outline of the case. Most of the reporters used voice recorders, but some still scribbled away in their notebooks. Ruth distributed the photos, along with a phone number they and the public could use if they had anything to tell them.

“We’re particularly interested in speaking to anyone who may have seen Patsy Lumis getting off the train on Wednesday night.”

“Will there be more?” a deep male voice boomed out from the rear of the room. “Serial killers like this don’t stop until they’re made to. That’s right, isn’t it, Inspector?”

Calladine shook his head. “The truth is we don’t know. I’ve given you where we’re at currently, and I’d appreciate it if the headlines stick to the facts, ladies and gentlemen. I would like the message underlined to the students in the city, particularly the American ones, and I want people to talk to us. Do your best, please. But I don’t want the local population frightened out of their wits.”

“But there are things you haven’t told us, aren’t there, Inspector?”

He was right, of course he was. It would be foolish to release all the details. Once that happened, every weirdo in the area would be on the phone, confessing. So the mouth thing had to stay out of bounds. For the present at least.

“Irrelevant details that don’t concern the public.” Calladine didn’t fancy the lurid headlines, and there’d be plenty of those once the truth came out.

“DCI Jones, does this have anything to do with the gangland killing earlier this week?”

Jones was taken aback and looked at Calladine, momentarily lost for words.

“No. Nothing at all. That was a quite different matter and is not the concern of this team. It would not be helpful to link the two in your paper.”

The reporter who had asked this was from the Manchester press

—a burly individual who worked for the daily. Poor sod must be following that case. Interesting that it had led him here this morning though. Calladine wondered if he knew that Fallon was his cousin. It was not common knowledge but it would be easy enough to find out.

The DCI stood up. He’d had enough. “A word when you’ve done,” he muttered tersely before leaving.

What now? Was it the case, or was it the mention of the shooting that had ruffled his feathers?

After a few more questions, Calladine called a halt and whispered to Ruth, “We’ve given out all we need to for now. We can’t waste any more time here. Let’s crack on.”

“What next? We’ve seen everyone we need to from the university. There’s nothing much else to be had from the laptop for now, so it seems. So perhaps we should bother Julian and Doc Hoyle—see what forensics has uncovered for us.”

Not a bad idea, except that they would have contacted him if they had anything.

“Someone here to see you, sir!” Rocco was smirking as he approached Calladine.

Sitting at the empty desk formerly inhabited by Dodgy, was Alice Bolshaw.

“I hope you don’t mind, Inspector, but I contacted your DCI and he asked me to come in.”

Yes, he damn well did mind. Going above his head like that wasn’t on. If she wanted to work with him then she’d have to learn about teamwork.

“And?” He glowered down at the girl.

“Well…he said to come along. He didn’t think my helping could do any harm. And he rushed through all the paperwork.” She shuffled nervously in the chair.

That remained to be seen. Had the man no sense?

“Excuse me, Alice. Wait here. I’ll be back in a minute.”

* * *

“I don’t like these continual references to your cousin, Tom. It leaves a bad taste and causes too much curiosity.” The DCI stood looking out of the window, a glass of water in his hand.

“My view exactly, sir. But I don’t see what I can do about it. The girl—Alice Bolshaw—did you give her permission to join us?”