Page 24

TWENTY-THREE

Brigstocke was definitely looking more worn out and ground down than he had been a couple of days earlier, but to be fair, Thorne couldn’t see too many people around the table he could describe as fresh-faced and chipper.

A case like this could do that – the long hours and the growing number of victims – and Thorne had no doubt that Helen was thinking much the same thing about him.

‘Right, let’s crack on,’ Brigstocke said.

The growing number of victims and the motives for their murder.

‘On the first page of your briefing notes, you’ll see a transcript of the encrypted messages that were sent, via a private chatroom on the Dark Web, yesterday evening.

’ Brigstocke waited while everyone opened the folder in front of them.

‘These are messages from someone our prime suspect knows only as ButterflyGrrrl. She is actually Emily Mead, who we are no longer treating as a suspect and who is now working with us as a protected witness.’ He gave a small nod in the direction of Nicola Tanner.

‘There’s been no response to these messages as yet, but the DFU are monitoring the chatroom, so if and when there is, we’ll know about it straight away. ’

DC Charita Desai raised a finger. ‘When you say “prime suspect” . . . ?’

‘Only suspect,’ Thorne said.

‘We’re definitely saying they’re linked, then?’ DC Dipak Chall looked across at him. ‘The poisonings and the stabbing in Hendon Park?’

‘I can’t imagine any scenario in which they aren’t.’

‘The press are going to have a field day—’

Brigstocke cut in. ‘I’ll be coming on to that in a minute,’ he said.

‘But yes, we’re now working on the assumption that Adam Callaghan was killed by the same individual that poisoned Catherine Holloway and her fellow officers five days ago.

According to Emily Mead, the man she met in Hendon Park was keen to claim responsibility. ’

‘ Keen ?’ Chall shook his head.

‘Emily Mead was raped by Adam Callaghan,’ Thorne said.

Brigstocke nudged his glasses. ‘Well, she’s certainly making that allegation.’

‘Yes,’ Thorne said. ‘She is.’ He was still talking directly to Chall and Desai, but he knew he had the attention of everyone else in the room, most particularly James Greaves from the CCU who was sitting on a chair against the wall, ‘observing’ and scribbling notes.

‘Emily Mead was the victim of rape at the hands of a serving police officer and the man who killed him has made similar accusations about PC Christopher Tully.’ He glanced across at Brigstocke, wanting to be sure the DCI would appreciate how nice and carefully he was about to tread.

‘So . . . whether that turns out to be true or not, we’re definitely starting to see some kind of motive. ’

‘Something personal?’ Chall asked.

‘Got to be.’ Thorne was thinking about what Hendricks had said the night before, but still found it hard to believe that what this individual was doing was any kind of crusade. He hadn’t killed those coppers because of some twisted calling. ‘This is a reaction to something.’

‘Right.’ Brigstocke looked down at his notes. ‘Thanks for that, Tom.’

Thorne decided he should keep quiet for a while, knowing his boss well enough to tell that he was anything but grateful.

‘In an effort to manage this “field day” Dipak was talking about, there’s going to be a press conference this afternoon.

We’ll be letting them know about Catherine Holloway’s death and Catherine’s mother has generously agreed to take part, so it should be pretty powerful.

We will be taking questions, but we will not be talking about any connection between the murders of Catherine Holloway and her three colleagues, and the death of Adam Callaghan.

That is strictly operational information which, for the time being, stays in this room.

’ Brigstocke looked around. ‘We clear about that?’

Everyone appeared to be.

‘What if someone asks you directly?’ Pallister had clearly thought quite carefully on this occasion, before asking what was a perfectly reasonable question. ‘Some smart journo putting two and two together.’

‘Luckily there aren’t too many of them,’ Tanner said.

Almost everyone around the table seized the welcome opportunity to laugh, just a little.

‘That’ll be dealt with if and when it happens,’ Brigstocke said. ‘Besides which, it won’t be me answering the questions. DCI Walker will be hosting the press conference.’

‘Walker?’ Thorne could not keep the distaste from his voice. ‘Why?’

‘Because I asked him,’ Brigstocke said. ‘He’s as well informed about the investigation as anyone here and, more importantly, Catherine Holloway was a PC at his station. It seemed like the right thing to do.’

There was little else Thorne could say.

‘One other matter which isn’t in your notes .

. . a suspicious fatality which came in overnight.

A fifty-six-year-old security guard named Stuart Needham was the victim of a hit-and-run in Stoke Newington.

The car, which turned out to be stolen, was found burned out a couple of hours afterwards, so it’s obviously being treated as murder.

The team in Hackney that’s caught this can’t say yet if it was premeditated, but the key factor, for us, is that the victim was a retired officer.

’ Brigstocke let that sink in. ‘I’ve told them to keep me posted. ’

‘Coincidence, maybe?’ Pallister said.

‘Quite possibly, but until we know more there’s no reason we should jump to conclusions.’

Thorne didn’t need a reason. ‘So, that’s a nice round half-dozen.’

Tanner caught up with him in the corridor outside the briefing room and said, ‘Sounds like Russell’s finally on board.’ She checked to make sure Brigstocke was nowhere within earshot. ‘Took him long enough, mind you.’

‘I think he was always on board.’ Tanner muttered something about ‘trust’ and ‘experience’ but Thorne was only half listening.

He was still thinking about that hit-and-run and what was almost certainly their killer’s sixth victim.

‘He’s just got to weigh up all the options, cover the bases, like I said.

I mean, if things go pear-shaped, he’s the one who’ll get it in the neck. ’

‘I thought shit always rolled downhill,’ Tanner said.

‘Don’t worry, it’ll get to us eventually.’

They turned at the sound of a door opening to see Brigstocke coming out of the briefing room. He walked past them without a word, then stopped and came back, though he appeared somewhat reluctant.

‘We’ve worked together a long time, so you know I’ve always valued input from every member of my team.

’ He was talking directly to Thorne, leaving Tanner a little embarrassed on the sidelines.

‘You, more than most, Tom . . . but I don’t think it’s hugely helpful to contradict me, however subtly you think you’re doing it.

And I really don’t need you to run my briefings. ’

‘Come on, Russell, I didn’t—’

‘Let’s say no more.’ He shook his head sadly, and now he looked at Tanner. ‘This is a pig of a case and we’re all capable of getting a bit fractious.’

They watched him walk away.

‘What was that?’ Thorne asked.

‘I can sort of see his point,’ Tanner said.

‘I mean, I’ve got no issue with an honest-to-goodness bollocking . . . ’

‘Right, because you’re used to it.’

‘. . . but I really can’t stand the whole “I’m not angry, I’m just disappointed” thing.’

Brigstocke stopped at the end of the corridor to talk to one of the civilian staff. He glanced back at them.

‘He looks done in, don’t you think?’ Tanner asked.

‘I do think,’ Thorne said.

Tanner touched her face. ‘His skin’s gone all chalky and there’s loads more lines than there used to be.

It’s why they’re called worry lines, I suppose.

I know I can hardly talk, but I reckon it’s a good job he’s not the one going in front of those cameras later on. He’d need a fair bit of concealer.’

Thorne saw Brigstocke pause in the doorway of his office and look back at him, before disappearing inside. He said, ‘How fast does Botox work?’