The Jackdaw (33 page)

‘Hello.’

‘DI Corrigan,’ Jackson’s voice came back. ‘We need to meet. Have I ever got something for you.’

‘How d’you get my mobile number?’ Sean asked in a moment of fear.

‘Relax,’ Jackson told him. ‘I called your office number and got diverted to your mobile.’ Sean remembered setting the call divert.

‘Just tell me what you want, Jackson.’

‘The Argyll Arms – Argyll Street in Soho. One hour. Don’t be late.’ The line went dead.

‘Shit,’ he cursed.

‘Is everything all right?’ Kate asked.

‘No,’ he told her. ‘I have to go and see someone.’

‘Straight away? You haven’t had anything to eat yet.’

‘I’ll get something on the way,’ he promised.

‘No you won’t,’ she argued. ‘Sean, this is getting ridiculous. You’re going to make yourself ill.’

‘I’m sorry,’ he told her, ‘but I have to meet this guy. He could have important information.’

‘About the man you’re after?’

‘Could be.’

‘Sean. I’ve barely seen you in days and the kids haven’t seen you at all. You need to find some time for us in your life.’

‘I will,’ he assured her, although he wasn’t sure how. ‘I have to go.’ He stood and thought about kissing her again, but the look on her face told him it wasn’t a good idea. ‘I’ll try to get home at a sensible time,’ he promised. ‘Maybe even early enough to see the kids. I’ll call you later.’ He walked away without looking back.

‘No you won’t,’ Kate told him once he was too far away to hear. ‘You never do.’

Sean entered the Argyll Arms, scanned the customers for Jackson and found him sitting alone reading his own newspaper at a corner table in the old pub that had been lovingly restored to its original glory. He weaved and pushed his way past the lunchtime customers and joined Jackson without asking or pleasantries.

‘What did you want to see me about, Jackson?’ he demanded.

Jackson lowered the paper as if he’d only just noticed him, but Sean knew Jackson had no doubt clocked him as soon as he’d entered. Journalists like Jackson weren’t too dissimilar from cops in their habits: they liked to have their backs to the wall, sitting where they could keep an eye on all newcomers, and they liked to be aware of what was going on all around them, at all times. Jackson’s stories had seriously pissed off some powerful and dangerous people in their time.

‘DI Corrigan. So glad you could make it.’

‘Cut the shit, Jackson – I’m not in the mood. I’ve already had a bad day and it’s going to get worse, so what did you want to see me about that couldn’t wait? It better be worthwhile me dragging my arse into the West End to hear about.’

‘Know what you sound like?’ Jackson asked with a grin.

‘No,’ Sean answered. ‘What do I sound like?’

‘A cop,’ Jackson told him, his grin now a full-blown smile.

‘Fuck you, Jackson,’ Sean cursed and began to stand to leave.

‘I met him again,’ Jackson hurriedly explained, his smile vanished. ‘The Jackdaw.’

Sean sat slowly back in his seat. ‘I told you to stay away from him. He’s more dangerous than you think. You’re gonna get yourself killed. And what’s worse – I’ll probably be the one who’ll have to investigate it.’

‘I don’t think so,’ Jackson told him smugly. ‘I’ve met him twice now and I’m still here, aren’t I? He’s not going to harm me – he needs me.’

‘Needs you? What for, exactly?’

‘Publicity,’ Jackson explained. ‘Needs me to spread his message to a wider audience.’

Sean studied him for a few seconds, his eyes narrowing as he suspected the worst of Jackson. ‘Jesus, Jackson. Have you been encouraging this lunatic to take more people – so you can keep the story going?’

‘No,’ Jackson answered none too convincingly. ‘Of course not. That would be unethical. Maybe even criminal. I know my boundaries better than that.’

‘I swear, Jackson,’ Sean warned him. ‘If I find out you’ve so much as indirectly suggested he keeps doing what he’s been doing I promise I’ll have you for conspiracy to murder.’

‘Bullshit,’ Jackson smiled. ‘I know the law too, you know. You can’t do me for shit.’

‘Just try me,’ Sean threatened him. ‘Just try me.’

‘I take it then you don’t want to hear what I have to say.’

Sean felt unclean and compromised. He wanted to get away from Jackson before his dark temper rose and overtook him – before he dragged Jackson across the table and beat him senseless. ‘I’m all ears,’ he managed to say.

Jackson leaned forward, his eyes fixed on Sean’s. ‘He said he was going to have to speed things up if he was to achieve what he wanted to achieve. Move his timetable forward.’

Sean felt a little confused. It was the first time he’d considered that the killer could be working to a specific timetable. It meant he’d set himself goals – but what were they? He decided not to share his confusion with Jackson.

‘Did he tell you what he wanted to achieve?’

‘Not exactly,’ Jackson asked, looking a bit puzzled, ‘but it’s obvious, isn’t it? He’s said it often enough. He wants to make the greedy bankers pay for their crimes.’ Jackson leaned back, smiling, as if The Jackdaw’s motive was some sort of sick joke.

‘You don’t believe him then?’ Sean asked. ‘Don’t believe in all this working-class-hero shit?’

‘Do me a favour,’ Jackson answered. ‘He’ll turn out to be just another nutter, although …’

‘Although what?’ Sean encouraged him.

‘Well I’ve met a few, you know, once they’re behind bars. Interviews for the paper and research for the books. They’re all pretty much the same, wouldn’t you say?’

‘Keep talking, Jackson.’

‘Yeah, this one’s definitely got something about him. Something a little different.’

‘Different how?’

‘Control,’ Jackson told him. ‘He always seems to be in total control – confident – like he’s absolutely sure of what he’s doing. I didn’t sense any madness in him, just clarity of purpose. Even his voice is controlled – the way he speaks – his sentence construction and intonation – nobody really speaks like that. Probably just one more thing he does to keep you lot off his scent.’ For a moment Sean thought Jackson looked genuinely spooked before he re-gathered himself. ‘Still – probably just the mask and weird voice making him appear more than he is. He’ll turn out to be just another loony. But right now he’s the hottest story in town. The readers just can’t get enough of him.’

‘But he says he needs to speed up his
timetable
? Did he say why?’ Sean asked.

‘Absolutely,’ Jackson grinned.

‘And?’

‘It’s because of you,
DI Corrigan.
He looked up your old cases. He thinks you’re very determined. To be honest – I think you’ve got him worried. Great angle to the story: “The Jackdaw versus London’s top detective”. I was thinking give the readers a little background about yourself first, you know – how you got your man and all that stuff – how Thomas Keller almost killed you. What do you reckon?’

‘Don’t even think about it,’ Sean warned him, imagining what Kate would say if his name appeared on the front page of
The World.

‘Come on,’ Jackson tormented him. ‘We haven’t had anything this interesting since the Yorkshire Ripper sent tape recordings to the chief investigating officer, and even that turned out to be a hoax.’

‘I don’t know who’s crazier,’ Sean told him. ‘You or him.’

‘Think of the positive publicity,’ Jackson tried to persuade him. ‘The top-brass would love it: “Hero cop pitted against merciless killer”. You’ll be famous.’

‘You put me all over that arsewipe you call a newspaper and I’ll come for you, Jackson,’ Sean warned him through thin lips as he got to his feet.

‘Just think about it.’ Jackson smiled. ‘You have my business card. My number’s on it. And in case you were thinking of listening in to my conversations, that’s not the phone I use to speak to The Jackdaw. You’d be wasting your time.’

‘Stay away from me,’ Sean insisted, taking the card and slipping it into his jacket pocket, ‘and stay away from this joker who’s got you convinced he’s the real killer. You want to get yourself killed, fine. Just do it on someone else’s patch.’

‘Oh, he’s the real killer,’ Jackson told him, his eyes a mixture of excitement and terror. ‘Believe me, he’s the real deal and when you finally come face to face with him, you’ll see it for yourself.’

‘We’ll see,’ Sean snarled and turned to leave before Jackson said something he couldn’t ignore.

‘You know we’re a lot alike, you and me. I see it, even if you don’t.’

‘We’re nothing alike,’ Sean protested. ‘You’re imagining things.’

‘Sure we are,’ Jackson argued. ‘We both love our jobs, even when they’re destroying everything around us – our families and friends. We’re both determined to get the job done, no matter what it takes – even if we have to bend a few rules. I never quit until I have my story and you never quit until you have your man. We’re both prepared to take risks others would never dream of to get what we want. And why do we do this? For money or celebrity? No. We do it for our own satisfaction and peace of mind, because if we didn’t, we just wouldn’t be able to live with ourselves. Ring any bells?’

‘Similar traits don’t mean we’re alike,’ Sean replied.

‘Come on, Corrigan. Your colleagues look at you just the same way mine look at me – like you’re crazy. Like you’re insane for taking the chances you do. But it’s what makes you you – just as it’s what makes me me. We’re lost to our professions, Corrigan, and ultimately it’ll probably destroy us both.’

Jackson’s words cut deep, but Sean managed to hide how much they had disturbed him. He reminded himself he still had Kate and his girls – clinging to them like a drowning man clinging to a rock.

‘Have a nice day,’ he told Jackson and headed for the exit.

Sean arrived back in the office at the Yard with Jackson’s words still dancing around inside his mind.
Was that what Jackson wanted, was that what The Jackdaw
wanted? To bring them face to face – to turn the investigation and its ultimate end into some kind of public entertainment – just so long as they could watch it all from a safe distance?
But maybe, just maybe, he could still use Jackson to lead him straight to The Jackdaw.

He burst into the main office and headed for his own goldfish bowl of a room, palming off the efforts of both Sally and Donnelly to get his attention, for the moment at least. Right now there was only one person he wanted,
needed
, to see. As he entered his office she was already sitting on the opposite side of his desk, once more watching the videos from the Your View broadcasts.

Anna looked up when she heard him enter. ‘You’ve been gone a long time,’ she told him. ‘Anywhere interesting?’

‘You could say that,’ he replied. ‘I met with Geoff Jackson.’

‘The journalist from
The World
?’ she asked. ‘The one covering our investigation?’

‘Yeah,’ he answered. ‘He met with the killer again.’

‘How d’you know?’ Anna argued. ‘How d’you know he’s meeting with the real murderer? How does Jackson know?’

‘He seems convinced,’ Sean told her. ‘I may not like the little prick, but he’s smart enough and experienced enough to make sure he’s speaking to the real deal.’

‘So what now?’

‘Said the killer’s working to some kind of timetable, implying he intends to achieve certain targets he’s set himself. D’you think that’s possible – that he could reach a point that satisfies him and then stop?’

‘Interesting,’ Anna answered, pursing her red lips as she considered the question. ‘I suppose I’d have to say it’s possible, based on the fact he killed his first victim, but not the next two, which tells us he’s not in a state of rage or frenzy. He’s in control – he has discipline and restraint. But it means he’s even more organized than we thought he was. He may be trying to balance the number of victims he can claim with the chances of eventually being caught. Not something your typical serial killer can do. Most will offend until they’re caught or killed.’

‘But he’s not a serial killer,’ Sean reminded her. ‘He’s only killed one of his victims. If anything he’s becoming less violent, not more.’ He slipped off his raincoat and slumped into his chair. ‘I don’t know,’ he admitted. ‘D’you buy all this vengeful voice of the oppressed crap?’

‘Why not?’ she asked. ‘If this is a man who’s potentially lost everything because of the banking collapse, then yes, it could psychologically destabilize him enough to make him act out his fantasies of revenge in a violent way. Even commit murder.’

‘And want to broadcast it to the world?’

‘For some people revenge is an intensely personal thing. For others, they want the world to know it was them.’

‘But he hides behind a mask.’

‘When he sees the masked man on the videos, he sees himself.’

‘But he would have to have had some underlying psychological issues already, right? He hasn’t gone from nought to a hundred in one go. The screws were already loose. Whatever effect the banking crisis had on him it just finished the job. If it hadn’t been that it would have been something else – his wife leaving him, losing his job, someone looking at him the wrong way while he’s queuing with his kids at Legoland – something would have set him off. If he is in fact just another psychopath, albeit a particularly patient and clever one.’

‘Having doubts?’ Anna asked.

‘Let’s just say I like my psychopaths nice and straightforward. You know, start with pulling legs off spiders then a slow and steady descent into complete violent madness – each crime worse than the last, sort of thing.’

Anna smiled. ‘Not all people with psychopathic tendencies end up as violent criminals,’ she explained. ‘A significant number of company CEOs have psychopathic personalities, only they
kill
people in the boardroom and in business deals, but they still do so without feeling the same sort of compassion a normal person would for their victims. They enjoy the power. They enjoy being able to control what happens to the life of another person.’

‘Well, this one’s certainly turned the tables on your boardroom psychos. I bet they’re not feeling quite so in control right now,’ he told her, before being distracted by DC Bishop wandering past his door. ‘Bishop,’ Sean called out, stopping him in his tracks and making him look up from the latest technical data sheets he was studying while walking. He retraced his steps backwards and poked his head into Sean’s office.