The Jackdaw

‘Superintendent Featherstone. Mr Addis.’

‘Why would I?’

‘Well, we are Special Investigations, aren’t we?’

‘Paulo,’ Sean asked, losing his limited patience, ‘is there something I should know about?’

‘The online murder, boss. Just thought it was the sort of thing we might pick up.’

The look on Zukov’s face told Sean he needed to find out more. ‘Get in here,’ Sean told him. ‘Go on then. Tell me about it, but keep it succinct.’

‘Some bloke from the City gets grabbed from the street in broad daylight,’ Zukov began, ‘and the next thing he’s on Your View strapped to a chair with some nutter going on about how he and all his banker buddies are criminals and how he’s going to teach them all a lesson. Keeps a hood on all the time and uses some sort of electronic device to alter his voice.’

Sean stared at him disbelievingly for a while before speaking. ‘And then?’

Zukov shrugged his shoulders. ‘And then he killed him.’

‘How?’

‘Looks like he used some sort of pulley system to hang him. Pulled the chair up and everything.’

‘And this is genuine?’ Sean asked, still unconvinced.

‘Apparently. Bloke’s family’s already been in touch with the local CID. He went missing some time yesterday and hasn’t been seen since.’

‘Could he be in on it – some kind of prank or publicity stunt?’

‘Doesn’t look like it. Not the type, apparently.’

‘Where you getting all this from?’ Sean asked. ‘How come you know so much about it?’

‘Like I said – it’s all over the news, boss. All over the Internet.’

Sean looked him up and down before pushing his laptop across his desk and indicating for Zukov to take a seat in front of it. ‘Show me.’

Zukov sat and quickly logged onto the Internet and began to navigate his way around. He soon had what he was looking for and spun the laptop back towards Sean. ‘Here you go, boss – the whole thing available to watch on Your View. It’s been the most watched video since word got out.’

‘Jesus,’ Sean muttered as he concentrated on the screen. ‘That says a lot about our society. Who the hell would want to watch a man being killed?’

‘Thousands,’ Zukov answered. ‘Maybe even millions.’

Sean didn’t answer, the video of the masked man and his victim taking over his world. He watched the entire ‘show’, until finally the masked preacher drew a curtain of darkness across the screen.

‘What the hell is this?’ Sean asked himself.

‘Dunno, boss,’ Zukov said, mistaking it as a question directed at him. ‘But some in the media reckon maybe he thinks he’s some sort of avenging angel.’

‘What?’

‘You know – man of the people sticking up for the little guys, striking back at the rich bankers.’

‘You’ve got to be joking,’ Sean told him. ‘Avenging angel? More like another bloody psychopath looking to make a name for himself. This is all we need.’

‘Maybe,’ Zukov added.

Sean leaned back in his chair and fixed him with look Zukov knew all too well. ‘You don’t sound convinced.’

‘It’s just a lot of people seem to agree with him. Not necessarily the murder, but that it’s about time something was done to the bankers.’

‘What people?’

‘People on Facebook and Twitter. They’re all saying it.’

‘Facebook? Twitter?’ Sean asked. ‘It’s a wonder anyone gets any work done any more. Get hold of Donnelly and Sally for me. Get them back here for a briefing. They’ll need to know what’s happening. Shit!’

‘You reckon we’ll get this one then, boss?’

‘Does this look like a run-of-the-mill murder to you? Does this look like someone who intends to stop any time soon? Yeah. This one’s coming our way. I can feel it.’

Zukov knew he’d used up his usefulness. ‘I’ll go track them down for you, boss.’

‘You do that,’ Sean told him, watching him leave just as Detective Superintendent Featherstone entered the main office and headed his way carrying a pink cardboard folder – the colour indicating the contents were confidential. Featherstone appeared to be his jovial self, despite the bad news Sean knew he carried tucked under his armpit. He knocked once on Sean’s doorframe before entering and taking a seat without being asked.

‘Morning,’ he began. ‘How’s it going?’

‘Fine so far, but I’m guessing it’s about to change.’

‘How’s the prep for the Allen case going?’

‘Pretty much done,’ Sean told him, his eyes never leaving the pink folder. ‘Down to the jury as to whether they believe he intended to kill the boy or whether they think it was an accident. Nothing more we can do now. The abductions and false imprisonments are beyond doubt.’

‘Good,’ Featherstone answered, although he hadn’t really been listening.

Sean nodded at the folder. ‘Let me guess – the banker who was murdered live on the Internet yesterday?’

‘You heard then?’

‘Only recently.’

Featherstone tossed the folder across the desk. ‘Courtesy of Mr Addis. Felt this was right up your street.’

‘Thanks,’ Sean said without meaning it, pulling the file towards him and flipping it open to be greeted by a professional-looking photograph of the smiling victim. ‘Not the usual holiday snap-shot. Someone important?’

‘Paul Elkins,’ Featherstone explained. ‘CEO of Fairfield’s Bank based in the City, so yes, he’s both important and wealthy, or at least he was. If it hadn’t been for the video on Your View and the rantings of the suspect I would have assumed it was a professional hit – some Colombians or Russians making an example of him.’

‘You have reason to believe he was laundering money for somebody he shouldn’t have been messing with?’

‘No, not yet, but it’ll need to be eliminated as a possible motive.’