The Jackdaw

‘No,’ Bishop told him. ‘We can only trace him when he’s connected to the Internet. Every time he’s connected we inch a little closer to his location, but he has to be connected.’

‘What if he changes computers or changes the location of his broadcasts? Donnelly asked.

‘If we’ve already got a hook into his computer we can trace him even if he changes location – although we’d have to go back a few steps, which would slow us down. But even without a hard modem we can trace his wireless fingerprint via the—’

‘Stop. Stop,’ Sean interrupted. ‘Save the technical jargon for someone who gives a shit. Now try that again in English.’

‘Well, like I said, once we’re into his er … computer, we’ve pretty much got him, but it’ll take time, depending on how long he stays online each time. If he ditches the computer we’re buggered, unless he’s using er … something that sends the signal on that he also used with the original computer.’ Sean and Donnelly looked at each other. ‘It’s like at home, right,’ Bishop explained. ‘Most people have more than one device that can access the Internet, but they’re all getting that access through one modem, right, so even if they ditch the device, we’re still into the source. Get it?’

‘I get it enough,’ Sean told him. ‘Dave, get him a desk in the main office and put him to work.’

‘He can share with me and Sally. There’s enough room. He wouldn’t survive in that shark pool.’

‘Fine,’ Sean agreed.

Bishop’s eyes darted around nervously. ‘Excuse me,’ he began. ‘I know my way around computers and stuff, but I’m not qualified to call myself an expert and you sound like you need an expert.’

Sean looked him in the eyes. ‘Do you know anyone better than you who also happens to be employed by the Metropolitan Police?’

‘Er … well no, but—’

‘I didn’t think so,’ Sean cut him off again. ‘Listen, you can speak to whoever you need to speak to for technical advice, go and see whoever you want to see, spend whatever you have to spend – but I need you to trace the location of where this madman’s broadcasting from. Do you understand?’

‘Yes, but it’s just that I was right in the middle—’

‘You may be our best chance to catch a killer, and if you do, it won’t be forgotten,’ Sean encouraged him. ‘Are you my man?’

Bishop finally straightened as a sparkle came to his eyes. ‘Yeah,’ he answered. ‘Yeah. I’m your man.’

‘Good,’ Sean told him as Donnelly led him away to the next-door office. Sean hadn’t finished shaking his head when he saw Anna enter the main office and start to approach him. He felt a pleasant vibration in his chest and his head became a little light. He pushed the feelings aside and quickly stood, pulling on his coat and gathering his belongings, stuffing them carelessly into his pockets.

Anna entered without knocking. ‘Going somewhere?’

‘Yes,’ was all he said, aiming for the door where he’d have to pass close to her.

‘Mind if I ask where?’

He sighed before answering. ‘If you must know, I’m meeting Dr Canning for the post-mortem.’

‘Can I tag along?’

‘No.’

‘Oh.’

Sean realized he was being unnecessarily blunt and reminded himself it wasn’t her fault he felt the way he did about her. Being close to her made him feel uncomfortable, vulnerable; but he didn’t want to hurt her either.

‘I’m sorry,’ he explained. ‘It’s just Dr Canning doesn’t like additional people coming to his post-mortems. He likes it to be just him and me. Post-mortem’s his call. He’s the pathologist.’

‘That’s OK,’ she told him. ‘I understand. I’d probably be the same.’

‘Look,’ Sean continued. ‘I’ll tell you all about it when I get back. I’d be interested in your opinion.’

‘I’d appreciate that,’ she told him as he slid past. ‘I’ll see you later then.’

He walked quickly through the main office without looking back and was gone.

Georgina Vaughan sat on the corner of her desk on the seventh floor of Glenhope Investments in the City of London. She kept a sharp eye out for her boss who often stalked the floor looking for employees who were engaging in social discourse rather than working. She shared her limited working space with two colleagues, Nick and Oscar, and when they weren’t being spied on there had only been one topic of conversation that morning – the Your View Killer.

She peeked over the top of Nick’s screen. ‘So who do you think he’s going to do next?’ she asked in little more than a whisper.

He checked they weren’t being watched before answering. ‘I don’t know. Could be anyone. Could be you.’

She gave a short laugh. ‘Me? I don’t think so. You heard what he said – he’s only after the big fish.’

‘You’re a senior project manager and a rising star,’ Oscar joined in. ‘Maybe he’ll consider you to be a big fish?’

Again she laughed. ‘I doubt it. Not yet anyway. I reckon he’ll only go for CEOs. Probably doesn’t even know what a project manager is. By the time I’m a CEO he’ll probably be dead of old age.’

‘You’re on the senior management fast-track scheme – what more do you want?’ Nick reminded her in his slightly effeminate voice that matched his petite build and whiskerless complexion.

‘I’m thirty-fucking-three, Nick. Does that sound like fast-track to you? This whole job’s beginning to feel like waiting for dead-man’s shoes.’

‘Then you’ll be happy to see him dispose of a few of them,’ Nick suggested.

‘Ha, ha,’ she mocked him.

‘The higher you climb the less positions there are,’ Oscar chipped in. ‘Besides, with this lunatic running around out there, who’d want to be a CEO of anything?’

‘I would,’ she almost snapped at him in her clipped accent, her long, wavy brown hair falling forwards. ‘I just need him to bump off another couple of hundred and I should be fine.’

‘I doubt there’ll be any more,’ Nick argued. ‘I heard he was killed by some Eastern European gang he’d been laundering money for. Apparently his rates were beginning to piss them off so …’ He spread his hands as if an explanation wasn’t necessary.

‘That’s bollocks,’ Georgina told him. ‘Eastern Europeans would have chopped him to pieces.’

‘An expert on these matters, are you?’ Oscar asked.

‘I’ve heard things,’ she told them, trying to sound mysterious.

‘More like seen things,’ Nick teased her, ‘on the telly.’ Both he and Oscar laughed at her.

‘Well one thing’s for certain,’ she silenced them, ‘none of us have anything to worry about, sitting here doing these shit jobs. Nothing to worry about at all.’

Sean parked in the ambulance bay at Guy’s Hospital, leaving the police vehicle log on the dashboard to prevent his car being towed away. He strode off through a part of the grounds rarely seen by most hospital employees, let alone the public, and made his way to the mortuary where he found Dr Canning already examining the body. Canning looked up to see who had entered his domain.

‘Good morning, Inspector.’

‘Morning, Doctor,’ Sean replied, no feeling in his voice. ‘Here we are again then.’