DI Sean Corrigan Crime Series: 5-Book Collection: Cold Killing, Redemption of the Dead, The Keeper, The Network and The Toy Taker

‘Or maybe we just haven’t caught him.’

Jarratt gave a low laugh. ‘I know we’re not perfect, but there’s never been a repeat offender who hasn’t been caught within a couple of years. Even in the dark ages, before computer cross-referencing, DNA, Crimewatch, we still caught the people eventually. They would always make a mistake.

‘No. If he was in the country he would be offending. He wouldn’t be able to stop himself any more than we could stop treating everybody with suspicion. It’s in his nature. Or he may have become a ghost, never keeping one identity too long, never staying in one place longer than a couple of months. He’s capable.’

‘I’ll check with public records,’ said Sally. ‘See if they have anything on him. And thanks to you, we’ll have a set of fingerprints for him. I’ll have them compared to any marks recovered from our scene.’

Jarratt’s eyes narrowed. ‘If it’s a death certificate or fingerprints you find, then please call me. If he’s sunning himself in Thailand, I’d rather not know.’

Sally thought Jarratt suddenly looked old. She wouldn’t push him any further. ‘Well, thanks for your time,’ she said, and stood to leave. ‘Oh, one more thing.’

‘Yes?’

‘You did take photographs of Korsakov, when you charged him?’

‘Of course.’

‘It’s just, when I checked his intelligence records at Richmond, there were no photographs attached.’

‘Unfortunate, but not unusual,’ Jarratt replied.

‘Can you think of anyone else who may have wanted or needed photographs of Korsakov?’ Sally asked. ‘Maybe I can still track them down.’

‘Not really,’ Jarratt answered. ‘No one’s ever approached me about him.’

Sally sighed. ‘Oh well, never mind.’

Jarratt led her to the front door. His hand rested on the handle, but he didn’t turn it. ‘Can I ask what put you on to Korsakov?’ he asked. ‘What put you on to me?’

‘Method Index,’ Sally told him. ‘You were down as the officer in the case.’ Jarratt said nothing. ‘Oh shit,’ Sally suddenly said, fumbling in her handbag. ‘I almost forgot. Could you do me a favour and have a look at this photo?’ She pulled the surveillance photograph of Hellier out and handed it to Jarratt. ‘Do you recognize him?’

Jarratt held the photograph and looked at it without interest. Sally saw nothing in his face. ‘No,’ he said. ‘Is it someone I should know?’

‘Just a loose end I wanted to tie up, and now I have. Anyway, thanks for your time.’

‘Anytime,’ Jarratt said. ‘It’s nice to feel useful again.’ They shook hands before Sally left and headed to her car.

‘He’s a sly one, all right,’ Donnelly said, ‘thinking on his feet. Covering our evidence as we find it.’

‘Then we’ll have to find more,’ said Sean.

‘How about DNA? Body samples?’

‘Irrelevant,’ Sean reminded him. ‘He admits to having sex with the victim, and now he admits to being in his flat − any samples we find prove nothing. That wouldn’t matter if we were to find the victim’s blood on Hellier or his clothing, but it’s going to take the lab days to process the things we seized today.’

‘So what are we going to do – just let him walk out of here?’

‘That’s exactly what we’re going to do,’ Sean answered. ‘We charge him now, we’re saying we’ve got enough evidence to convict him. We both know that’s the rule. Once he’s charged, we lose the right to question further or to take more samples. We charge him now and we couldn’t even make him take part in a fucking identification parade. I’ve made that mistake before. I’m not going to make it again. We have to come at him from another angle. One he won’t be expecting.’

‘You’re talking about identifying another crime he’s committed?’ Donnelly asked, without enthusiasm.

‘I am,’ Sean confirmed, noting Donnelly’s scepticism. ‘Something occurred to me during the interview. What if he’s making it up – the whole story about having an ongoing client-customer relationship?’

‘I don’t follow.’

‘What if he wasn’t having any sort of relationship with Graydon? What would that mean?’

Donnelly shrugged in confusion.

‘It could mean he’d selected Graydon. Simply picked him from the crowd and killed him. All this bollocks about seeing him every few weeks, Graydon taking care of his physical needs, it’s all a smokescreen, trying to confuse us – throw us off the scent. He’s trying to lead us by the nose in the wrong direction. Maybe it’s so much simpler than we were thinking: he went looking for a victim and found one, then he killed him. But he made mistakes – he was recognized in the club and he left a single print at the scene. Now he’s covering his tracks, trying to make up for those mistakes. He knows that if he admits he’s only ever seen Graydon once, then he’s flagging himself up as a predator. He’ll bring us right down on top of him. Much better this way. He thinks he’s smart enough to get away with it, and that will be his downfall.’

‘But we know he did see the victim at least once before,’ Donnelly reminded him. ‘The doorman, Young, saw them together outside the club, remember? He was a distance away, but he was sure it was them and he was sure they headed off together, so he couldn’t have just picked him up the night he killed him.’

Sean had already considered everything Donnelly had said. ‘Of course he’d seen him before. Been with him before. That was important to him.’

‘Why?’ Donnelly asked.

‘Because that made the victim real. He needed to taste him and feel him. Fantasize about him. So he picks him up inside or outside the club, it doesn’t really matter, and they probably go back to Graydon’s. They have sex. Hellier drinks it all in – absorbs everything − and once he’s sure Graydon is worthy of his special attentions he leaves, but watches him. He watches him for days, his excitement building, the fantasy in his mind growing increasingly violent and depraved until he can stand it no more, so he waits for him, outside the club. When Graydon eventually appears, alone, he follows him. Stalks him. Maybe he followed him all the way home or maybe he stopped him in the street – the victim wouldn’t be too afraid; after all, they’d already had paying sex together. But whatever happened once they were back at the flat, Hellier made his fantasy come true. Only, as we know, he made two mistakes: the fingerprint and being seen with the victim. So he spins us this story about some sort of relationship he was having with the victim and has us chasing our tails, desperately trying to establish some logical reason why he would want to kill Graydon, knowing we’ll never find one, because there isn’t one. And while we’re looking for it we’ll miss the real reason he killed Daniel Graydon – because he wanted to. Because he had to.’

‘Christ,’ Donnelly cursed. ‘So what now?’

‘Take someone with you and bail Hellier out. Tell him to come back in two weeks. His brief will ask why he needs to come back. Tell him we’ll be checking his story. That Hellier hasn’t been eliminated yet.

‘And scramble the surveillance team again. I want Hellier picked up the second he steps out of the station. We run twenty-four-hour coverage. We keep the pressure on and wait for him to drop the ball. Sooner or later he’s going to hang himself. Who knows, maybe he already has.’

Hellier stood in the corridor of the police station, waiting to exit the building. First Templeman went outside to ensure no one was about. When he returned, the news wasn’t good.

‘I’m sorry, James. Looks like the media’s got hold of this.’

‘What?’ Hellier snapped. ‘You sure they’re here for me?’

‘I’m afraid so. They’ve already asked me for a statement. They know you’ve been arrested on suspicion of murder.’

‘That bastard Corrigan. He told them. He’s trying to destroy me.’ Hellier’s words were venomous.

‘Listen,’ said Templeman, ‘you need to stay calm. I’ll speak to them, deny you’ve been arrested, tell them you’re helping the police with their inquiries. You stay in here until I’m finished, then I’ll bring the car around. And I also recommend you cover your face when we leave.’

‘What?’ Hellier’s voice was raised.

‘Just in case there’s a photographer sneaking about. You can use my raincoat.’

‘You want me to crawl out of here with that over my head, like some paedophile? You might as well tell them I’m guilty.’

‘Please, James, try and stay calm.’ Templeman almost had his hands on Hellier’s chest. ‘A name’s nothing if they don’t have a face to go with it.’

Hellier sounded cold. ‘Fine, but hear this. No one humiliates me without paying the price.’

‘I wouldn’t be talking about revenge if I were you, James,’ Templeman advised.