‘No, no, you’ve got it wrong. It’s not like that.’

Jessica didn’t think for a moment he was her man but thought she would give him a bit of his own medicine anyway.

‘So what is it like? You’ve got to look at things from my point of view. I’ve got some guy who seems to know an awful lot about my case but doesn’t seem willing to speak about it. Meanwhile, he’s writing stories blasting me and my fellow officers. Maybe I should bring you in for questioning?’

She could almost hear him squirming at the other end.

‘No, no. Look, I didn’t write all of that. My editor, he . . .’

‘He what?’ On the other end of the line, Jessica heard the caller give a large sigh.

‘Can we meet?’

‘Are you asking me on a date? I don’t go out with killers, Garry.’

‘Not like that. It’s just . . . I’d like to talk to you. Two people have died.’

It was the last line which brought an end to the charade between them. Jessica was still annoyed with him but she could hear in his voice that the journalist, like she did, recognised the two dead people were almost becoming a side issue.

‘I’m pretty busy at the moment,’ she said.

‘Just fifteen minutes. Tomorrow afternoon? There’s a coffee-shop place near my office.’

‘Right, whatever. Text me the address.’

‘Great. I’ll do it now.’

Before he could end the call, Jessica thought of one final thing. ‘Are you still there?’

‘Yes.’

‘Good. Don’t wear the jacket.’

Jessica hung up.

12

There wasn’t much coverage in the following day’s papers – it had probably been too late for their deadlines. The morning news broadcasts were running with the line fed to them by last night’s release and everyone seemed fairly happy that a lid had been kept on the details. Jessica went to see Aylesbury in the morning to give him a brief rundown on her conversation with Garry Ashford the night before. She didn’t really want to be part of an internal investigation so thought it was best to tell him she had agreed to meet with the journalist later on that day. The DCI pointed out that, considering there were no test results back from the scene and they had been unable to speak to Sandra Prince, anything in the media about the murders being linked could cause a panic.

‘They’ve already got us looking like blundering incompetents. What with this and the shambles of a court case going on, we’re in everyone’s sights at the moment.’

A ‘shambles’ was certainly one way to describe how the case surrounding Harry’s stabbing was proceeding. After Harry’s no-show on the first day, the prosecution had asked for an adjournment based on ‘illness’. Peter Hunt for the defence had vigorously opposed the request but, given the jury had yet to be selected, the judge had reluctantly delayed the case for the rest of the week. Jessica had tried calling Harry but, as usual, there was no answer. Rumours were flying around the station that he would refuse to give evidence and the case would fall apart. With the Christensen investigation going nowhere either, it was a tense time.

The case had begun the week after and Harry had been present each day. After the jury selection and opening argument, it was his turn in the witness box today. Jessica was not allowed to attend because she was a witness and was relying on the desk sergeant – who seemed to know everything that was going on – and the television news.

‘What about whoever’s leaking this stuff to Ashford?’ Jessica asked.

Aylesbury looked at her as if to say, ‘I’m not convinced it isn’t you’. He didn’t follow it up, instead saying: ‘For now things are fine but if anything else gets out it will become a matter for the Internal boys.’

The station was buzzing that morning. There was nothing like a body turning up to get everyone moving. Some people would be inspired to find the killer, others by wanting to do something good to progress their own career. Most officers fell somewhere in the middle. A photo of Martin Prince had joined Yvonne’s on the incident room’s whiteboard to keep everyone’s mind focused, while the morning’s briefing had gone on much the same lines as what Aylesbury had told her in his office.

He reminded everyone of the need to keep things in-house then Jessica talked the floor through what they knew. Jonathan Prince’s alibi had been checked and confirmed and, even though Sandra Prince was still in hospital, it had been verified she had been in work the previous day too. Test results should be coming back later that day but, for now, everyone would operate under the assumption the murder had been carried out in the same way, probably by the same person, as that of Yvonne Christensen. A uniformed officer had been placed at the hospital with Mrs Prince and Jessica would be told when it was fine to interview her. Everyone was very careful not to mention the phrase ‘serial killer’. Until it was actually confirmed, those were dirty words.

A phone number had been given out to all media the previous evening and officers were again needed to take calls. Some uniforms were going door-to-door in the area where Martin Prince had lived and another sub-team had been given the job of trying to link the two victims. It was a possibility they had been killed at random but far more likely they had something in common that, if discovered, could lead to a person who might want to murder the pair of them. The first thing they would do would be to contact Eric Christensen and ask him if he actually knew Martin Prince. It was probably too much to ask for but sometimes you overlooked the obvious.

‘Find the link, we find the killer,’ Jessica told the assembled team.

To say Garry Ashford was nervous about his meeting with DS Daniel was an understatement. One of the first things you were taught as a journalist was to protect your source, so there was no way he would reveal who had given him information about the killer. As for their conversation on the phone the previous evening, he wasn’t sure whether she actually thought he was a suspect. If she really did think it was him, she would surely have him arrested so presumably she was just messing?

For now, he hadn’t told his editor that he had any extra information about the second killing. The basics had been released to the media and his boss had asked him what else he knew, telling him to get back onto his contact and get the full story. He promised he would and had half told the truth when he said he would be meeting the detective sergeant to talk about the case. He was meeting her, of course, but only to confirm the information he already knew was true.

Since his boss’s editorial criticising the police the previous week, using Garry’s information and byline, he had been a lot more tentative about what information he gave up. He had somehow managed to walk the line of staying in his editor’s good books while also feeling as if he hadn’t compromised his ethics. It wasn’t that he necessarily had a problem with breaking any of the police’s embargoes or revealing information they hadn’t released but he did feel uncomfortable with how it was being used to bash them in a way that gave little thought to the victims.

He was sitting in a small cafe around the corner from the newspaper’s office in the centre of the city. It was an old-fashioned place that looked drastically out of sync surrounded by newly built or renovated glass-fronted buildings. He didn’t know but it looked as if it had been there for centuries. It had character and smelled of exotic tea in a way only old cafes could. There were only half-a-dozen heavy round metal tables on the inside, with matching metal chairs that screeched every time they were moved. A couple of tables were also placed on the pavement outside just in case the sun came out. It was where Garry went for lunch a couple of times a week, attracted by its cheap prices and good-looking waitresses. He didn’t know if the cafe’s manager hired based on looks but it certainly seemed like it.