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‘I only know of my happy-slapping case but, if he does exist, I doubt it’s the first time he’s fixed a problem that way.’

Poe said nothing. As implausible as it sounded, why couldn’t there be someone like that out there? An evil Jim’ll Fix It as it were. He rephrased that in his mind: Another evil Jim’ll Fix It.

‘Anyhow, this racketeering asshole said he’d tried to get in touch with him regarding his own problems but hadn’t been able to. The DA didn’t buy it and he ended up flipping to make sure he didn’t die in jail. But what he told me stuck. I think it was the lack of specifics that caught my attention.’

‘You thought that your businessman might have hired him?’ Poe said. ‘Started digging?’

‘Not officially. But yes, I started digging.’

‘And?’

‘Not much,’ she admitted. ‘I did find corroborating anecdotal evidence but no one had details.’

Poe paused a beat. It sounded a bit far-fetched. He said as much to Melody Lee.

‘That’s what I thought,’ she replied. ‘But the stories were consistent. And eventually a theme emerged. This guy can’t be contacted. This guy contacts you. That’s why I think he’s managed to stay under the radar. I think he monitors the sites where these things are discussed and t

hen does his own research into potential clients. He’s very selective, very discreet. Everything’s done remotely and the two parties never meet. All payments are in untraceable cryptocurrency; all communications are encrypted and on disposable devices.’

‘You think he’s the puppet master. Identifies the target then manipulates vulnerable or impressionable kids to murder for him?’

‘I think he does get the kids to do some nasty shit but, for the bigger jobs, all he’s really doing is setting up a patsy.’

‘And he does the actual hit himself?’

‘I’m convinced of it. He identifies the one he likes for it then plants the evidence. It explains how the blood was only on the sole of Stuart Wilson’s sneakers. I figure he collected some from the murder scene and put it somewhere he knew Stuart Wilson would come into contact with it. His stoop, probably.’

‘Stoop?’

‘What you guys call the steps in front of your houses, I guess. Stuart Wilson must have stood in it.’

‘And even if you found traces of it on the stoop you’d assume the forensic exchange was shoe to stoop, not stoop to shoe.’

‘Exactly.’

Poe considered what she’d told him. Although it sounded a bit conspiracy theory-ish, a fixer for hire did explain some of the doubts he was beginning to have about the Cowells as serial killers.

There was one major flaw, though.

‘None of our victims are linked, Special Agent Lee,’ he said.

‘You’re sure?’

‘We are.’

‘Is it possible he’s hiding the real motive for one murder in the chaos of a serial killer investigation?’

One of Nightingale’s cops had already floated that theory. Poe didn’t think so and explained why.

‘I can’t see any of our victims being the target of a hitman. One was a young girl working in a shop, one was a recluse and one held a minor position with the MoD.’

‘How minor?’

‘She was a contracts manager. Probably all I can say. I’m told she didn’t have access to any sensitive information.’

‘Damn,’ Melody Lee said.

Her sense of disappointment was palpable.