The Keeper

‘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 Canning, it’s Sean Corrigan.’

‘And what can I do for you, Inspector?’

‘Nothing yet,’ said Sean. ‘This is more of a heads-up to expect something in the next few days. Something a little more unusual than the norm.’

‘Ah,’ Canning replied. ‘Your speciality seems to be things that are a little more unusual than the norm.’

‘What can I say? Somebody somewhere must like me.’

‘So what should I be expecting?’ Canning sounded intrigued. ‘What does that crystal ball of yours tell you, Inspector?’

He nodded as if Canning could see him. ‘When it happens it’ll be an outside body drop, in a wooded area, possibly in water. The victim will be a white woman in her late twenties. Cause of death will be suffocation or strangulation with evidence of drugs having been administered to her. That’s all I’m prepared to speculate for the time being,’ Sean explained. ‘But I’ll need you to examine the body in situ.’

‘That’s quite a lot of information you have there, considering this person is still alive,’ said Canning. ‘I am correct in assuming they are still alive?’

‘You are,’ Sean admitted, but he’d say no more.

‘Very well,’ Canning agreed. ‘I shall await your call – and thanks for the warning. I don’t usually get advance notice of such things in my business.’

‘No,’ Sean answered. ‘I don’t suppose you do.’

‘Until the unhappy event then,’ Canning said.

‘Indeed,’ Sean agreed and hung up, already regretting making the call. He knew forensically it made good sense – forewarning Canning meant he could prepare himself and his pathology equipment for an outside scene examination, possibly saving as much as a few vital hours. Outside scenes could deteriorate incredibly quickly, especially if whoever took her went to the trouble of dumping her body in flowing water, although Sean doubted he would; he’d made no effort to destroy evidence at the other scenes so why would he when it came time to rid himself of her body? Mother Nature was no respecter of the dead or of those trying to gather the evidence to give them justice. But nonetheless he wished he hadn’t made the call. He felt soiled, complicit, as if he’d somehow sealed Louise Russell’s fate.