The cameraman signalled the countdown and then called for filming to begin. Paolo took a deep breath, trying to control his rapid heartbeat. His mouth was so dry the water in his glass looked like ambrosia, but he didn’t dare reach for a drink because his hands were shaking so much he’d be sure to spill water all over the leaflets. He coughed and began, praying that his voice wouldn’t give out on him.
“We are appealing for the public’s assistance in locating this man,” he said, raising the photograph. “His name is Sean Andrews and we believe he can help us with our enquiries into the murder of several prostitutes in the town...”
Twenty minutes later he answered the last of the questions from the journalists, feeling as though he’d run a marathon. The cameras stopped rolling and Willows rose. Paolo remained seated. He wasn’t sure if his legs would hold him.
“Well done, Paolo. You handled that very well. The leaflets and posters are already being circulated. I believe this will go out on the local news immediately. It will be on the national stations this evening. I’ve also arranged for you to brief the people at Crimewatch. With a bit of luck we can get this included in the next show.”
Paolo smiled. “Great, sir,” he said. “I can’t wait.”
And if you believe that you’ll believe anything, he thought. He watched as Willows did the rounds of thanking the television crew and the journalists, thinking how well the man handled these situations. Hoping that the wobble would now have left his legs, he stood up, gave a general thanks to everyone in the room and headed for the door. This type of thing had to be done, but he’d rather get on with hunting for Sean Andrews than talking about him on television.
Paolo put the phone down and slammed his fist against the desk. Was Sean Andrews laughing at him? It certainly felt that way. The news footage had no sooner been shown than a member of the public had found another body.
He got up and walked to the door of his office.
“Dave, CC, George, I need you in here. Now”
He went back to his desk and waited for them to arrive.
“I’ve just had a call from uniform. Another body’s been found at a fly-tipping site on the east side of town. This bastard really likes making a point about how he sees these women, doesn’t he? From what I can make out so far, he dumped the body during the night. Forensics are already on the way. Dave, you and I are heading over to where the body was found. CC, you and George go over to the district and find out who is missing. We haven’t had a missing person’s report, but someone must know who this latest victim is.” He picked up a pile of leaflets. “Take these and dish them out to the girls on the streets. They need to be reminded not to get into a car with this bastard.”
Barbara was finishing up as Paolo and Dave arrived at the scene. She looked tired and far from her usual immaculate self. Paolo wondered if she was getting enough sleep or maybe someone was keeping her up late at night. Then he wondered why he’d had that thought. It wasn’t as if he had any reason to pry into her private life. Shaking his head, he walked towards where she was waiting for him.
“Our killer strikes again, Paolo. He’s keeping the bodies for a few days after he strangles them. He’s certainly a sick bastard, that’s for sure. These girls are beaten almost to death before he finishes them off. The last one had semen on her breasts that couldn’t have been more than a few hours old when the body was found. I think this one might be the same.”
She sighed and pushed a stray hair from her face.
“You’ll call me when you know more?” Paolo asked.
Barbara smiled. “Don’t I always? Don’t hold your breath while waiting though. Yours is not the only case I’m working on.”
Paolo nodded. “I know that, but we need to put this one away.”
“Ah, but that’s your department, Paolo, not mine. I don’t think we’re going to learn anything new about him from this body. He seems to be a creature of habit.”
“What’s the estimated time of death?” Paolo asked, not really expecting an answer, but Barbara surprised him.
“Friday night some time, I would imagine. I’ll know definitely later.”
Paolo turned to Dave. “I think we need to find out where Matthew was on Friday night. The appeal to the public only went out today. On Friday he would still have felt that Matthew was in the frame – assuming he really is trying to set Matthew up. Come on, let’s go and pay another visit to Matthew Roberts.”
Paolo watched Matthew pacing around his office, feeling sorry for the man. From the moment they’d arrived to tell him another murder had been committed he’d been pacing up and down, unable to keep still even for a moment.
“I’m sorry, I just can’t take this is. Are you telling me that Sean Andrews is watching me?”
Paolo nodded. “It certainly seems that way, Matthew. We’ve checked back on all the dates and every murder coincides with a night when you have been home alone, and so wouldn’t have an alibi if you needed one. It looks very much as if Sean Andrews is setting you up. He looks so much like you it’s uncanny and he’s made no attempt to hide his face when picking up the girls he later kills.”
“But why? Why would he want to destroy my life? What have I ever done to him? I didn’t even know he existed until you told me about him,” he said, finally coming to rest and throwing himself down in an armchair opposite Paolo and Dave on the sofa.
“Our theory, and we could be way off base, is that he hates you because you were chosen for adoption and he wasn’t. You were given a wonderful life in comparison with his. He had a crap time growing up. From what we have found out so far, he was in and out of foster homes, in and out of care. Possibly when he realised you were his brother he resented the fact that you’d had such an easy and somewhat luxurious life. That could be why he killed your natural mother. At this stage it’s all supposition, but it seems feasible that he’s out to ruin your life to even the score.”
“And you have no idea where he is?” Matthew asked.
“Not at the moment, but he has to be close by to know when to strike. If he’s setting you up then he would need to be certain you were at home for the evening. There wouldn’t be any point if you were out at a function with loads of witnesses, which means he has to be near enough to know where you are. I think the time has come to have you under surveillance, Matthew. The most likely way for us to pick up Sean is to catch him when he’s tracking your movements.”
Matthew shook his head. “No! How many times do I have to explain to you that my clients’ privacy is paramount?”
Paolo’s sympathy evaporated. “You can tell me as many times as you like, but are you saying that the poor girls Sean beats up and then kills don’t deserve some of your concern? If we don’t catch him he’ll kill again and again, you do realise that, don’t you? We have no intention of upsetting your clients in any way. We’ll put a discreet tail on you – hell, you wouldn’t even know anyone was following you, so your clients definitely wouldn’t know.”
Matthew jumped up and towered over Paolo. “You’re missing the point. I don’t care about that. I care about your men gathering information on who comes to visit me and who they bring with them. I’m telling you now, Paolo, if you set someone to watch my movements after I’ve specifically said no, I’ll make sure you end up in front of the Police Complaints Commission. I’m sure the PCC would agree that I’m an innocent party in all this. My clients even more so. Go and do your job. Find Sean Andrews and take him in, but stay away from me and the people I represent.”
Paolo got to his feet and signalled to Dave to do the same.
“Don’t threaten me, Matthew. You know as well as I do that we aren’t trying to catch out any of your clients. We don’t need to do that. Sooner or later they do something stupid, or try one job too many and end up getting caught anyway. I can’t put a tail on you without your consent and I certainly wouldn’t give you the satisfaction of turning round and catching some poor officer who’s just doing his or her duty, so you
can relax.”
Paolo took a breath to calm down. What the hell was it about Matthew that made him want to knock him flat?
“If Sean gets in touch, or you see someone who looks even remotely like you, contact me directly,” he said, passing Matthew a card. “All my phone numbers are on there. Call me any time, day or night. And do me a favour, please. Get your secretary to make up a list of any public engagements you have lined up over the next few weeks. If Sean is watching you then we can be fairly sure that those nights are not going to be when he goes on a killing spree.”
Paolo nodded goodbye and left without another word. He was vaguely aware of Dave following behind him. He was still furious when they reached the car. He unlocked the doors and got in; wrenching his seatbelt into place as if the thing had done him a personal injury and it was payback time, he forced it into the slot to snap it in place. As he waited for Dave to buckle up, he drummed his fingers furiously on the steering wheel.
He became aware of Dave’s stillness and stopped his rapid finger movements. Turning, he had to force himself not to yell at Dave for staring at him. Jesus, he had to calm down.
“He really gets under your skin, doesn’t he?” Dave said.
Paolo didn’t trust himself to speak, so he nodded.
“Why?” Dave asked. “You deal with people like Azzopardi and don’t react the way you do with Matthew Roberts. Why does he rile you so much?”
Forcing himself to think logically, Paolo rejected the first response that popped into his head, which was that the guy was a prick.
“Do you know, Dave, I have no idea. I don’t know what it is about him that gets under my skin. Maybe it’s that he’s too perfect. You know, too well dressed, too well spoken, too... I don’t know, too everything. All I know is that there’s something about him that makes me want to aggravate him as much as he does me.” He laughed, feeling the tension leaving his body. “Maybe it’s my inner teenager rearing its ugly head. I hated him back then, so it might just be unresolved issues. Who knows. You hungry? Let’s go and eat.”
CHAPTER 22
Chief Constable Willows didn’t look as if anything Paolo might say was what he wanted to hear. If Paolo was honest, he didn’t blame the man. He had nothing to give him that would be worth listening to.
“Paolo, this is ridiculous. It’s been a full week since the first appeal to the public. We’ve featured on Crimewatch, the news channels have been brilliant, the press have run the story for days and yet you’re telling me that not one person has called in?”
“No, sir, I didn’t say that. In fact we’ve had more calls than we can cope with. I’ve told you about those.”
“Don’t get funny with me, Paolo. I’m not talking about the cranks who believe Hitler is camping at the bottom of their gardens, or those who confess to every crime they hear about, I’m talking about genuine leads. You’re seriously telling me that not one call has been genuine?”
Paolo sighed. What could he say apart from the truth?
“Sir, we’ve had a few calls from people who saw Matthew Roberts and believed they’d spotted Sean Andrews, but other than that, we’ve had zilch. The man is keeping himself well hidden. If you’d give me permission to-”
“Paolo, we’ve been over this again and again. You cannot put a tail on Matthew Roberts. If he could prove you’d done so we’d end up being massacred by him – and by the press who are being so helpful at the moment. You know how hot Roberts is on human rights.” Willows broke off and glared at him. “What did you say? Come on, if you’ve got something worth hearing, don’t mutter it under your breath.”
“I said, he worries about human rights when it suits him and his clients.”
Willows pulled a face that Paolo couldn’t quite decipher. He decided not to put his boss on the spot by asking what he meant by it.
“Any news from Liverpool, Paolo? I suppose it’s possible that Sean Andrews might have gone back up there.”
“We’re in constant contact with them, sir, but they haven’t had any new information. The ex-girlfriend has been out of the country for the past week. She went with a group of workmates to Spain, but was due back yesterday, so they’ll be getting in touch with her. Still, if she’s been away it’s not likely she’ll be able to add anything into the mix.”
Paolo’s phone rang. He looked over at Willows, who nodded permission to answer it. He didn’t recognise the number on the caller display, so flipped it open and gave his name by way of greeting.
He listened for a few moments and then scribbled down a time. Closing the phone, he smiled at Willows.
“I do believe we might have had our first breakthrough, sir. That was the ex-girlfriend, Lizzie Cooper. How’s that for coincidence? It’s almost as if she heard us talking about her. Anyway, she switched on her computer when she woke up this morning and saw Sean’s face plastered all over the Internet. It came as quite a shock to her, as you can imagine. Anyway, the good news is that she’s on her way down from Liverpool. She was calling from the train, which is due to pull into the station in,” he broke off to look at his watch, “twenty-three minutes from now. She says she has information that will help us.”
For the first time that morning, Willows smiled. “I take it you’re off to meet the train?”
Paolo nodded. “I am, sir. Let’s hope her journey was worthwhile, for all our sakes.”
Paolo stopped at the doorway to the main office and called across to Dave who was busy typing up his reports.
“Leave that for now, Dave. We’ve got a train to meet.”
Dave jumped up and grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair.
“Really, sir? Who’s on it?”
Paolo filled him in on the way to the parking area.
“You can drive this time, Dave. Your back seems to be okay again now.”
He waited to see if Dave was going to tell him anything, but the younger man stayed silent. Paolo smiled to himself. He’d seen Dave and Rebecca talking as he’d left the station the night before and it looked as though Dave might have finally met his match. He’d certainly been nodding in agreement with Rebecca, which was a breakthrough in itself.
Dave drove to the railway station entrance and stopped the car. Paolo jumped out.
“Wait here, Dave. I’ll see if Ms Cooper’s train is on time.”
He walked into the station concourse and studied the arrivals board. The Liverpool train was due in one minute from platform three, so he sprinted down the stairs and along the underground passageway to the sign pointing to another set of stairs leading up to platform three. He took a deep breath and forced himself to sprint up them. He got to the top just as the train was pulling in. He’d told Lizzie Cooper that he’d wait for her under the exit sign. He positioned himself out of the way of anyone wanting to go past and scanned the passengers as they disembarked. The only youngish looking woman to get off had a suntan that owed nothing to the weak April sunshine in the UK. Even if she hadn’t described what she was wearing, Paolo would have had a good guess that the woman was Lizzie Cooper.
He stepped forward to meet her. “Ms Cooper? I’m Detective Inspector Paolo Sterling. Thank you for coming all this way.”
She glared at him, which was the last thing he’d expected.
“I bloody well had to come, didn’t I? You lot have made a right balls up.”
If he’d been surprised by her look of loathing, that was nothing compared to the shock he felt at her words. Feeling off balance, he tried to make sense of the situation.
“Ms Cooper, I’m sorry, I think we’ve got off on the wrong foot somehow. I thought you’d come to give us information that would help us to track down Sean Andrews, your former boyfriend.”
She hitched her shoulder bag higher, but Paolo got the distinct impression she’d have preferred to hit him with it.
“He is my former boyfriend, as you put it, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to help you lot to stitch him up. I haven’t come to help you catch him; I’ve com
e to tell you what a load of arseholes you are. Sean wouldn’t hurt a frigging fly.”
Paolo almost rocked backwards from the venom in her voice.
“Look, this isn’t getting us anywhere. Why don’t you come back with me to station? We can discuss everything there. We can tell you why we think Sean is the man we’re looking for and you can tell us why we’re wrong. How does that sound?”
She sniffed. “It sounds okay, I suppose, but I’m not having a hand in stitching Sean up for summat he didn’t do. He might be a right prick most of the time, but he isn’t a bloody nutter.”
Paolo nodded and turned to go back down the stairs. After a moment’s hesitation Lizzie Cooper followed him. He led the way through the passage and back up the stairway leading to the main part of the station. He was desperate to ask a few questions, but the woman beside him was angry enough to start screaming abuse in the middle of the concourse if he asked something she didn’t like, so he took the safer option of heading to the car in silence.
He opened the nearside rear door and held it while Lizzie Cooper got in and settled herself on the back seat. Not feeling that sitting next to her would be a good idea, he moved around to the front of the car and climbed into the passenger’s seat. Dave glanced at him with a look of enquiry and Paolo shook his head slightly.
“Dave, this is Ms Cooper. Ms Cooper, this is my Detective Sergeant, Dave Johnson.”
He smiled at Dave. “Let’s head back, Dave. Ms Cooper wants to put us right on a few things.”
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