Bloodstream (35 page)

‘I’ve seen three different ones in the past year.’

‘So, you’ve been following him for a while then?’

Adam nodded. ‘I wanted something to happen to him, to show what he’s been doing to Carly. I could never tell her though. I didn’t want her to blame me for finding out.’

Murphy rubbed his palms together, his fingers cold to the touch.

‘Am I in trouble for sending the email?’

‘What email, Adam?’

A couple of tears dribbled down Adam’s cheek. ‘I didn’t mean to send it. I was just angry. I tried to take it back but I couldn’t. I’m sorry.’

‘What did your email say, Adam?’

Adam lowered his head into his crossed arms on the table. ‘I didn’t want anything to happen to her. Either of them. Not really. I’m so sorry. I can say sorry to Carly, she’ll understand. I know she’s not in work today, is this why? It was just a stupid mistake.’

‘Did you get any response to your email, Adam?’ Murphy said.

‘No. I was reading that loads of people were emailing it, so I thought it was just some mad thing that no one would ever read. Did I break the law sending it or something? I’m really so sorry. I didn’t really mean it.’

Murphy glanced at Rossi who slowly nodded her head at him.

‘Adam . . . Carly and Will were found dead this morning.’

Murphy was surrounded by tired faces, tired minds. The week’s events were beginning to catch up on many of them. Not least himself. Every now and again, the face of Amy Maguire – still missing after all this time – would enter his mind, and shake him. He knew she wasn’t his daughter. Almost knew. There was something there, however, something that kept dragging his thoughts back to her.

The chance to save her.

Instead of which, he was listening to Rossi talk about her weekend plans. She was speaking directly to him, which made tuning her out more difficult.

‘So, I think everyone on his team will be there,’ Rossi said, her hands moving round in the air. ‘Which will be a bit weird. I bet he’ll bloody introduce me as his girlfriend or some such shit. I don’t know why I agreed to go. It starts at five, but I’ve told him I’ll be late if I’m there at all. What do you think?’

‘When is this again?’ Murphy replied, knowing the moving hands meant she was either excited or nervous. ‘Did you say?’

‘Yes, I did, when you obviously weren’t listening. Tomorrow night. Darren wants me to go for this meal with his workmates.’

‘The doctors?’

‘I don’t know, do I? Doctors, nurses, that sort of thing.’

‘What’s the problem again?’

Rossi sighed and ran a hand through her hair. ‘With everything that’s going on . . . you know, I didn’t think it was a good idea.’

‘This is meeting his friends, isn’t it? People he works with every day at least?’

‘Well, yeah.’

‘That sounds pretty important to me. You should be there. It’s not until tomorrow, so you never know. Maybe the whole case will be solved by then. Hey, it’s anaesthetic drugs being used . . . maybe it’s him and you’ll wake up on Sunday not knowing what happened.’

Rossi raised her voice. ‘Don’t even joke about that. He’s not that type of guy. He’s . . . he’s good. He’s not a killer or anything like that. Be very careful about what you say, you hear me?’

‘I’m sorry,’ Murphy said, holding his hands up in surrender as he noticed Rossi’s hands shake a little. Her jaw clenched as she waited for him to continue. ‘Just a joke, honest. He seems cool. I didn’t realise it was that serious . . .’

‘Neither did I,’ Rossi said, lowering her voice. ‘Guess I’m a bit protective. You don’t think that joke’s being made by some other people round here? They all know who he is and where he works. It’s just getting on my nerves.’

‘Look, Laura, we can’t ever let these types of things interfere with our lives. We have to keep going as if everything is normal . . .’

‘You’re one to talk.’

‘I know,’ Murphy said, holding his hands up. ‘But, I am trying to get better at that type of thing. If we let cases like this one, or the next, or the next . . . if they get to you, they win. You’ll end up resenting your job and that’ll make you a worse detective. You’re already getting better than me.’

‘Vaffanculo
.’

‘Well, you’re a better swearer than any of us, at least.’

Rossi smiled at him. Murphy looked across at her, seeing the effects of the previous few years on her. When he began working with her almost three years ago, she had just turned thirty, a smooth-faced, Mediterranean-featured young woman. Now, the darkness was under her eyes, the lines creeping in. Murphy didn’t want her to end up like him. When he looked in the mirror now, he saw a reflection of all the horrors he had seen in the previous decade. The scars and lines well earned. He’d been handsome once, he thought, but it was beginning to catch up on him.

‘Go,’ Murphy said. ‘Have a good time and make me jealous. You deserve it after this week. I’ll be making sure you’re out of here tomorrow in time to meet them.’

‘Fine,’ Rossi replied, still smiling. ‘What are we going to do with our new friend in there?’

Murphy considered the broken man they had left in the interview room. ‘It’s obvious he had no idea it was Carly and Will who were killed overnight. So, unless we’re being played by the greatest actor alive, I don’t think we have our man yet.’

‘Agreed, but he deserves something.’

‘Conspiracy? I’m not sure it would stick.’

‘He can’t just get away with it, though,’ Rossi said, her smile now gone. ‘It’s because of him they’re both dead. And for what? Because she didn’t go running to him when he showed up on his horse like a good white knight? He deserves to take some responsibility here.’

Murphy suppressed a yawn, tired of standing in the hallway, a little way down the corridor from the interview room. ‘I understand, I just don’t know what CPS are going to say. If you want to try, I’m willing to back you on it.’

‘Thank you. We can’t just have men like him out there.’

‘I get it, I do,’ Murphy replied, looking at his phone and tutting under his breath when he saw the time. ‘Listen, I’ll send Kirkham down to help you sort him out. I’ve got to go and show my face at this bloody press conference now.’

‘Go, I’ll be fine. Don’t let Butler get to you if he tries anything on.’

Murphy left Rossi in the corridor, almost jogging up the flight of stairs to his office. He sent Kirkham down to meet Rossi, checked he didn’t look like a crumpled mess and made his way to the press room.

He was late. DCI Stephens shook her head at him, pointing at her bare wrist as he made his way up the corridor to meet them. DSI Butler was smoothing down his hair, the strip lighting reflecting off the flecks of grey.

‘Glad you could make it, David,’ DSI Butler said, his assistant straightening his tie for him. ‘Now, is there anything you can tell me about the man we’ve arrested today?’

‘He’s under caution, but he only sent an email,’ Murphy replied. ‘We’ve just finished interviewing him now. He emailed the Man in Black address, but it looks like whoever our guy is deleted it before we even saw. Along with God knows how many others. We have arrested him on suspicion of perverting the course of justice. We’re going to approach CPS with a possible conspiracy charge for this lad, but I’m not sure it’ll stick.’

‘He is a person of interest at the moment,’ DSI Butler said. ‘Sounds better. Helping us with our enquiries?’

‘Yes, use both,’ DCI Stephens replied. ‘It will keep them off our back a little.’

‘I’m not so sure about that,’ DSI Butler said, smoothing out his jacket. ‘There is significant interest in this case. The coverage is non-stop and we look like a bunch of bloody amateurs at the moment. Eight murders. Six in one week. What am I supposed to tell them, David? Please tell me we’re getting closer to an actual arrest.’

‘We’re working on it,’ Murphy said, wondering if the superintendent had any clue what was going on. ‘It’s a very complicated case, with very few leads . . .’

‘I don’t care about that. Just find the guy, before we have even more problems with this lot to deal with. Every day this goes unsolved, it’s more pressure on us all. This new unit was set up so things like this didn’t happen. Certainly not for this long. Get out there and find out who this bloody nutcase is and get him off my streets.’

The media was king, Murphy thought. He was surprised he hadn’t been thrown under the bus and made to go out and face them by himself.

They filed in and headed to the table at the front of the room. Murphy noticed the number of people in attendance was almost double the amount of the previous press conference. On the other side of the room he saw the mother of Hannah Flynn being prepped to join them and make her own statement.

‘Did you see Chloe’s stepdad blow up earlier?’ DCI Stephens said to Murphy behind a cupped hand. ‘Not sure that’s helping at all.’

‘Didn’t see it,’ Murphy replied, looking out into a mass of faces. ‘I’m surprised it hasn’t happened sooner. I’m betting the press has been camped outside their house all week.’

‘We’ve had a word and sent the family liaison officer back there.’

Murphy sat down to the left of DCI Stephens, with DSI Butler on her right.

The preamble went without a hitch. DSI Butler made an impassioned speech, which even Murphy began to believe by the end. As he spoke about the hard work and man hours being put in by his staff, Murphy began to tune out and list the things that could actually catch the ‘Man in Black’. He winced to himself when he thought of the ridiculous moniker once more.

The list was short. They were down to trawling the archives online, checking IP addresses provided by large service providers. CCTV had turned up nothing of use.

The drugs were a possibility if they ever got an actual name, but the time taken to get any answers was just an opportunity for more victims to appear. Forensics on the scene had turned up nothing. It was one dead end after another.

‘A man in his early twenties was identified as a person of interest earlier today and is helping police with their enquiries,’ DSI Butler continued in a low voice. ‘We will give you more information on this in due course.’

Murphy knew the name would be common knowledge within an hour. That’s just how these things worked. Adam’s life would be shattered, once it became known what he had done. Even if he was never charged for an offence, his life was about to change overnight.

Good, Murphy thought.

Murphy waited for Hannah’s mother to begin speaking, feeling like a spare part. Someone to make up the numbers behind the panel of microphones.

‘Hannah was just starting her life,’ Emily Flynn said, looking very different from how Murphy had seen her a few days previously. ‘She didn’t deserve for this to happen to her.’

Someone coughed in the audience of journalists, which seemed to start a chain reaction of people clearing their throats.

‘Hannah and Greg’s daughter, Millie, is about to turn two. She doesn’t understand what has happened to her mummy and daddy . . .’

Murphy waited for any sign of emotion to appear, but Emily Flynn was in determined mode. He’d seen it with other grieving relatives when they were in front of cameras. Their nerves kept their emotions in check. He knew five minutes after the press conference had ended, she would be a wreck.

‘I’d ask anyone who has any information to please get in touch with the police. Someone, somewhere will know the person who has done this. Someone who has been acting strangely in the past few days. Please, please help my granddaughter and come forward.’

‘Any questions?’ DCI Stephens said beside him. ‘We’re able to take a few.’

Hands shot up round the room.

‘Yes,’ DCI Stephens said, pointing to someone on the front row.

‘Emily, can we ask if you’ve spoken to the parents of Chloe Morrison and whether you’re supporting each other through this.’

Emily Flynn picked up a glass of water in front of her with shaking hands. ‘No, I haven’t. We’re very different people. I don’t imagine they’re taking many calls from people right now.’

‘You’ve got that right,’ the man asking the question said under his breath. A low laugh spread through the room.

‘You think this is funny?’ Emily said, water spilling over the sides as she slammed the glass back down on the desk. ‘Is this a joke to you?’

There was silence in the room, the reporter who had made the comment now finding the floor of much interest to him.

‘This isn’t just words, or stories. This is real life. My granddaughter has lost her parents to some crazy bastard, and you lot aren’t interested in that. No one has asked me anything about my daughter. All you’re interested in is some celebrities and what happened to them. We’re a sideshow to you lot. I’ve seen what you’ve been saying about Hannah, relegating her to a non-victim, just because of one mistake . . .’

‘I think we should move . . .’

‘No,’ Emily said, holding up a hand to the press officer who had tried to intervene. ‘They need to hear this. It’s because of you lot that this sort of thing goes on. You’re getting messages and videos from the sick individual who did this and showing them on television, printing them in your newspapers. Do you not think that’s helping him, rather than helping us? Giving him a thrill. Making him do it again, and probably again soon enough . . .’

‘We’re just reporting the news,’ a voice from the back shouted. Murphy, who had been watching Emily with a growing respect, scanned the crowd for the source. He wanted to remember the face, just to make a note of it.

‘That’s enough,’ DSI Butler said, cutting in. ‘This is obviously an emotional time for Emily. Are we . . . are we going to end?’

DSI Butler looked towards the press officer for help, before a cacophony erupted as the reporters in the room began to rise to their feet and voice their dismay.

‘Hey, quieten down,’ Murphy said, standing up and shouting over them. ‘Have a bit of respect.’

DCI Stephens stood up next to him, placing a hand on his elbow. ‘Let’s just go,’ she said, trying to lead him away. ‘They’re not going to listen.’

Murphy allowed himself to be led away, looking back to make sure Emily Flynn was being cared for.