1
After I handed him over to the custody officer, I make my way to my desk. I have no idea what I’m going to do now. I need to think, put the pieces together to create the full picture; like an artist making seemingly random brush strokes only to step away from the canvas and suddenly be hit with a beautiful picture of an old Cornish mansion. The second I open the file to the first murder I hear Larry’s heavy footsteps behind me. Detective Chief Superintendent Larry Cane is my boss and I have a feeling he’d heard about who Derek and I brought in. There is nothing I can do about it now but find the evidence I need to nail him. I’m sure it’s all here right in front of me. Circumstantial? Maybe. But by now I’ve uncovered so many coincidences that I stopped thinking of them as that.
‘Sadie,’ he says. It’s the way he says my name that just gets to me.
‘Larry,’ I mock him, ‘I know exactly what you are going to say, and I was just about to sit down and put the case together.’ I look at him with triumph.
‘This better amount to something. You really shouldn’t have arrested him, yet.’ His eyes staring me down, trying to make me feel guilty.
‘Maybe. Maybe he would’ve fled if I hadn’t arrested him. We’ll never know. He’s here now.’
Larry lets off a grunt. ‘I don’t have to like it, though. Until you bring me something substantial; I can’t hold him for more than twenty-four hours.’
‘That’s more than enough time if you let me get on with it.’
‘I hope you’re right with this. For your sake,’ he says, turns on his heels and shoots off.
I’m not worried because I am right, I didn’t make it to second highest-ranking officer by being wrong.
‘Are you ok?’ Derek says, leaning closer to my desk so he could lower his voice.
‘Fine. I just need to go over all of this and it will make sense. There are too many things linking these murders together and to only one person.’
‘I still don’t get why you had to arrest him. That move was either genius or incredibly stupid.’
‘Careful now, you sound a lot like Larry,’ I laugh, ‘Maybe if you let me get on with it, we will be able to find out.’
Derek grins at me but nods and turns his attention towards his computer.
I spread out everything I have. Pictures, files, reports, notes, etc. The pattern is here, I just have to find it. I pick up the coroner’s picture of Rebecca Shaw, the first victim. I like to call them by their names instead of victim. It gives them personality, a life. Those were people before they were brutally murdered by some psychopath. When I questioned her back then, Rebecca’s mother told me she moved to London three years ago to get into the performing arts.
‘She even got a role in the musical Hamilton,’ she said.
‘That’s very impressive, Mrs Shaw,’ I replied.
She picked up a photo frame and gave it to me. It was heavy, silver with flowers engraved on it. The picture inside the frame was of a young woman. She looked nothing like the last photo I’d seen of her. In this one she was wearing a black graduation robe instead of the white cloth the coroner puts over them. She seemed happy. I handed the frame back to Mrs Shaw.
‘She was beautiful.’
‘Inside and out. I still don’t understand who would do such a horrible thing to my Rebecca?’
‘We’re doing everything we can to find that out, Mrs Shaw.’
I finished my tea and left. It had started to rain. For a moment, I just stood there outside Mrs Shaw’s door, looking up into the rain. I couldn’t help but think of my mother. There wasn’t much I could remember, but I knew she loved the rain. One memory was still very vivid in my head. Not long before she died, we took a family trip to Cornwall. It rained the whole time we were there. On the second or third day, my mother suddenly jumped up, took out our Wellies and raincoats and made my dad and me go outside with her. It was one of the best days of my life. We threw wet sand at each other, danced in the rain and had the most amazing time. Afterwards, she made hot chocolate with the little marshmallows on top and we watched a movie. The next thing I remembered was my dad telling me my mother would never come back from her shopping trip.
Admittedly, Rebecca Shaw was not on her way to the grocery store. The last activities on her bank account were a withdrawal of £50 at a cash machine in Newham at 13.39 and a payment of £20.75 at 23.08 at a pub called The Three Lions. A sports pub close to the cash machine with some dubious people in it. I wondered what brought her there. Crimes in Newham were mostly related to violence or sexual offences. Not where I would want to go to a pub.
