Cold Courage (24 page)

Lia watched the news until long into the night.

The police announced that the victim was approximately thirty years old, but positive identification had not yet been made. She had been shot extremely savagely, with a large-calibre automatic weapon. Simply killing her had not been enough. Parts of the body had come loose due to the force of the blasts, and it was clear that this had been the perpetrator’s intent.

‘I’m hard-pressed to think of any previous cases like this in Britain,’ a tired-looking DCI Gerrish said in a BBC interview around midnight. ‘Except one.’

The victim’s head had been separated from her body by shooting her neck at close range with an automatic weapon for so long that the neck tissues and cervical spine had broken down. The murder had been loud and bloody.

Lia felt the same wave of nausea as she had in the spring.

The media quickly dug up their footage from the case of the Woman Without a Face.

How long will it take for the
Sun
to give this victim a crass name too?

It only took a moment. The first story to refer to her as the Headless Woman appeared online at 12.36.

Lia went to sleep at 3 a.m. when she couldn’t stand to watch one more news report from Ludgate Hill.

In the morning all of London seemed to be thinking of only two things: the Headless Woman and the Woman Without a Face. Two murdered women, both left in the boot of a car in the City. The crimes were so unusual that they made the reporters resort to ever stronger metaphors. On the BBC morning news, a newsreader spoke of a ‘new era of brutality’, a phrase which was then repeated on show after show throughout the day.

In their reports, presenters considered it obvious that a serial killer was behind the crimes because the police had already found connections between the cases. What those connections were, the police did not wish to say since the investigation was ongoing.

‘I have a hard time believing it’s a serial killer,’ Mari said to Lia on the phone.

The perpetrator was probably the same, but that didn’t
necessarily
mean that he would follow a serial killer’s logic, fulfilling some inner appetite.

‘This is someone who kills for a living. He’s probably killed many more people than these two. Dumping the victims in a public place is a message. The cars and the locations. They’re supposed to tell someone something.’

They were still mulling over whether Lia should tell DCI Gerrish about the prostitutes on Vassall Road and Daiga Vītola. They didn’t have any actual evidence to back up their suspicions.

‘And besides, Gerrish has plenty of other work to do,’ Lia said.

The media had started pointing out how little progress the police had made in the case of the Woman Without a Face. The lead
editorial
in the
Daily Star
said the situation was embarrassing: a victim had been found in the middle of the Square Mile, within spitting distance of the Old Bailey, but the police could not track down the murderer.

In one interesting way the Hyundai Murder differed from the Holborn Circus case. No one knew who the first person had been to see the victim in the white Volvo that spring. This, even though the police had interviewed more than 160 eyewitnesses.

But in the Hyundai Murder, they knew who had been first on the scene, a seventy-one-year-old maintenance man who had been on an evening shift monitoring the mechanical systems of a nearby
shopping
centre. He noticed the blue car parked carelessly on the
pavement
and went to look. When there was no sign of the car’s owner, he tried the doors and found them unlocked.

‘The car was empty. That was strange too. Usually people have things in their cars. I even looked in the glove compartment, because that’s where people keep log books and other papers, but nothing,’ the maintenance man told the BBC news when interviewed.

He happened to try the boot as well. It had opened, releasing a nauseating stench.

‘I had to hold my hand over my mouth and nose. It was wrapped in plastic. A big… figure. So much blood. Straight away I
remembered
the Woman Without a Face…’

The man had slammed the boot shut and rung the police
immediately
. No one else had had to see the body.

Hauling the corpses into the City must have been a brazen
operation
, Mari said. The perpetrator had to drive the car onto a pavement in the middle of London, park it there and leave. Someone must have seen the driver, but without realising what they were seeing. People were constantly parking cars illegally as they ran quick errands.

But what did the discovery of the second body mean for Lia and Mari? And for the prostitutes in the flat on Vassall Road? Lia had her meeting arranged with Elza, but anything could happen before then.

‘Perhaps the police will discover something before Monday,’ Mari said.

They had to be extremely careful, she added. One murder might be a single, brutal act. The second victim made it clear that they were dealing with hardened criminals.

Lia had to hurry back to
Level
, and she knew that Mari’s mind was on other things apart from this new murder case: the first revelation about Arthur Fried was set to be made today. Lia had no intention of attending the press conference herself. She planned to watch the event on her phone. She and Mari agreed to return to the murders as soon as possible.

‘Fingers crossed for a good start to our political campaign,’ Lia said.

‘I’m sure it will be fine,’ Mari said. ‘It won’t be as big a story as the Hyundai Murder, but it will be plenty big enough.’

In spite of how busy she was, Lia kept an eye on the news at work. Deep down, underneath it all, was the same sorrow and shock as the previous time, but now she evaluated what she heard as an
investigator
as well.

At 11.05 a.m., her mobile began to ring. It was Maggie. The Fair Rule press conference had just begun.

The sound was tinny and the picture was small, but the connection through her phone over the office WiFi was good. Lia watched the press conference sitting at her desk, listening through earphones. She knew that Mari, Rico and Berg were watching at the Studio and Paddy from somewhere else.

In the briefing at Westminster’s Broadway House sat more than forty representatives of the media, even though the announced topic was something as dry as Fair Rule’s new social programme. There were more reporters than at any of the party’s previous news event, a result of the latest opinion poll numbers, which showed Fair Rule breaking six per cent.

A small lure had also been thrown to the media in the form of an announcement that the party would proclaim its opposition to the government’s current income tax policy and propose a tax relief initiative. That bore Gallagher’s trademark, Lia thought. Taking a stand on the tax burden was a tool for bolstering the party’s
position
in the eyes of journalists, commentators and other political professionals.

Looking at the audience in the hall, Lia remembered something she had heard Fried say in Epping at the party headquarters.

‘Reporters hunt in packs,’ Fried had said. ‘They think they’re independent, autonomous defenders of truth and justice, but in reality they always just follow whoever happens to be winning.’ Now the pack had started to realise that Fried was a rising star in the upcoming elections, and the pack wanted to get a piece.

Two TV news crews were also in attendance, Sky News and ITV. So far Fair Rule policy statements had failed to make the TV news, but that situation might be changing.

In amongst the reporters sat Maggie, who had gained entrance using a bogus press card. She was Susannah Thurman, from a paper named
The Public
, and if anyone had decided to check on her
background
or the paper she purported to represent, they would have found online every indication of a long and distinguished career for Thurman along with several of her articles.

The paper actually existed, but Susannah Thurman did not.

Maggie focused her smartphone’s video camera on Arthur Fried, who had just stepped up to the podium.

‘Dear friends, a lot has been written about Fair Rule in recent months. We’ve begun rising fast because we’ve been a real challenge to the status quo from the very start. We’ve challenged the politics of cowardice and cover-ups. We’ve shown the public what isn’t working under the current leadership and dared to say out loud what the majority thinks but does not express to avoid being unfairly labelled politically incorrect. We don’t think any of this is politically incorrect. What is incorrect is the collection of crushing taxes from British entrepreneurs who work tirelessly in service of their country…’

Lia had to smile. Fried had no idea the turn that was about to take place.

As he always did, Fried ended his grandiloquent speech by repeating the party’s slogans: Get Britain Back, No Way but Our Way.

Then he asked the reporters for their questions. Ten hands went up at once, and the party secretary jotted something down. Usually the larger outfits were called on first, and Gallagher indeed began with them.

‘The
Sun
, please go ahead.’

The tabloid reporter’s question had nothing to do with the issues at hand. Instead he asked about a recent case in Sheffield in which CCTV had recorded a black man robbing an aged, fair-skinned woman. Arthur Fried observed that the incident was a regrettable yet instructive example of how domestic politics that rode
hobby-horse
on multiculturalist ideals were driving the nation into chaos.

Gallagher gave the second question to the reporter from
The Times
who wanted to know why the social programme the party had just announced sounded so much like a programme a German conservative party had promulgated during their previous round of elections. Some portions were borrowed word for word.

The irritated glance Fried cast Gallagher spoke volumes. Apparently Fried hadn’t known Gallagher had stolen the text of his programme proposal.

But Fried’s answer was smooth nonetheless.

‘We’re extremely happy that the issues our party has raised are supported by other groups. Fair Rule has never followed anyone else. We begin conversations.’

As the third questioner, Gallagher pointed to Thomas O’Rourke from the
Star
.

Lia’s heart pounded. She watched as O’Rourke stood and smiled.

He’s really enjoying this.

‘Mr Fried, I have here copies of some documents I was hoping you could explain. I’ll pass out copies to everyone so they understand what this is all about,’ O’Rourke said

Fried and Gallagher watched in surprise as O’Rourke sent a stack of papers circulating down the aisle.

‘There should be enough for everyone, I think,’ O’Rourke said jauntily.

A reporter sitting on the front row handed a copy to Arthur Fried, who barely had a chance to glance at it before O’Rourke continued.

‘Mr Fried, these are copies of your corporate financial reports from 2000 and 2001, copies of the information submitted to the tax authority and a copy of the Lincolnshire County Council business register annual report for 2001, according to which both of your companies filed for bankruptcy in the same year…’

‘I can’t see what this has to do with Fair Rule,’ Fried said in an attempt to stop O’Rourke, but instead the reporter simply raised his voice.

O’Rourke related how Fried’s companies had faked bankruptcy in Lincoln and then continued operating in London virtually
unchanged
. Fried had never returned the business grants he had received during 1997–2001 and had, for example, failed to deliver some £70,000 in social security payments owed to the state. The final page was a document showing that Fried was the chairman of the board of both companies and controlled one hundred per cent ownership of each along with his wife.

‘That means that you are individually responsible for their
activities
,’ O’Rourke observed.

Even the mobile phone video connection showed how Arthur Fried’s face began to twitch.

‘So, the question is,’ O’Rourke said, ‘have you swindled the British Crown out of some three hundred and forty-six thousand pounds through bankruptcy fraud or is there a more honourable explanation for all of this?’

A surge of noise rolled over the briefing room. It began when some forty reporters simultaneously picked up their mobile phones and rang their editors to say that the Fair Rule press conference had suddenly become extremely interesting. One TV cameraman moved closer to Fried to record his reaction from a better angle, and the other TV camera followed right behind.

Arthur Fried did not look at O’Rourke. He was staring at Tom Gallagher, who was staring back. Their faces showed disbelief and a frantic effort to catch up with the situation. To this, Fried’s eyes added pure hatred.

Finally Fried turned his gaze to O’Rourke and his eyebrows rose.

‘Well now, Mr O’Rourke. You certainly have a dramatic way of presenting your shocking claims. It’s almost as though you’re trying to paint me as some sort of tax evader.’

Fried assured them that both companies had always conducted their business honestly, and he was sure that once he had had time to look more closely at the information that had been presented in such an oddly defamatory manner, a perfectly legal explanation would appear.

‘This event is meant to be a discussion of the new Fair Rule policy programme, and I’d like to concentrate on that,’ Fried said,
attempting
to change the topic.

Another wave of noise ran through the hall. Some of the reporters were demanding a turn to ask follow-ups, while others relayed Fried’s response to their offices and the rest expressed their
astonishment
at O’Rourke’s allegations.

Fried and party secretary Gallagher looked at each other again. Lia saw Gallagher mouthing words. He did not want to say
anything
to Fried in front of the cameras. Lia was unsure what Gallagher was trying to communicate. It could have been: ‘Stop now.’

Arthur Fried turned again to look at the crowd of reporters, who were now rising from their seats, eagerly awaiting the next turn that
events would take. They all wanted a comment from Fried on O’Rourke’s papers and the charges he had made.

‘Thank you for your attendance,’ Fried said in a loud voice. ‘We’ll issue an announcement soon about our next press conference. I wish you all a good day and may God bless this great nation.’

Turning, he walked out of the hall with Gallagher behind.

Maggie’s phone transmitted the chaos that broke out as the reporters stampeded after Fried and the party secretary and porter attempted to hold them back.

Reporters hunt in packs.