side?’
Eddie filled the screen with two separate images: the photograph and a freeze-frame of the video.
‘What lighting did we use that morning, Bryant?’
He still hadn’t looked at the screen.
‘The spotlamp, ’cos Dawson couldn’t find the light switch.’
She nodded. ‘So it was the exact same conditions. No natural light, no movement of the lamp?’
‘Suppose so.’
‘Okay, look at this,’ she said, motioning him closer. ‘See that black mass creeping up the wardrobe?’
He nodded.
‘Where is it on the photo?’
He looked closer and glanced from one to the other.
Bryant stood back and looked at her.
‘Guv, are you saying what I think you’re saying?’
She took a deep breath before speaking.
‘Yes. Bryant, there was someone else in the room.’
NINETEEN
‘Am yer serious, boss?’ Stacey asked, quietly.
Kim nodded her head. ‘Checked the footage last night. Definitely the shadow of a figure.’ She nodded backwards towards Bryant. ‘Me and Columbo went back to the property to recreate it with the lamp placement and a video camera. It’s definitely a person.’
Dawson pushed a folder roughly across his desk.
‘Mature, Kev,’ Kim snapped.
He coloured and looked away. ‘Sorry, Guv.’
She turned back to Stacey, who was still glaring at Dawson.
‘Find out everything about Leonard Dunn’s neighbours, family members, everybody he’s ever worked with, spoken to or brushed past on the bus. I want to know if any of them are on The List.’
It was what they all called the register of sex offenders.
The initial clue to the abuse had come to them from a perceptive and attentive school teacher. But the focus of the investigation had been on Leonard alone. And when they’d got him, they’d thought the case was closed. Damn it, they were hunting for another sicko who had been involved.
‘Kev, I want you to interview everyone again, especially the neighbours. If this person was a regular visitor, then someone must have seen them. Okay?’
‘What about Wendy Dunn?’ Bryant asked.
She shook her head. Not yet but that time would come.
‘Got any suspicions, boss?’ Stacey asked.
She certainly did, but she wasn’t going to share them yet.
Kim looked to Bryant.
‘Come on, partner. We’re clearing up.’
TWENTY
Alex hit the refresh button on each of the online news outlets she’d put into her favourites. What she should have been doing right now was meeting Ruth and collecting the data that was vital to her experiment; but the stupid bitch had got herself caught within forty-eight hours.
Alex had known that the incompetent police would eventually stumble over Ruth as a suspect, but she’d miscalculated. Either a police officer with a smattering of intelligence had landed the case or Ruth had left her name and address at the crime scene with a sign saying, ‘It was me’.
What she had expected was a few days, time enough to extract the information she required. Jesus, had she needed to draw the imbecile a picture? She’d been given the motivation, method and opportunity in the visualisation. Alex had hoped that Ruth’s one contribution to the process would have been a modicum of self-preservation.
Alex hit refresh again. No change. She turned her attention to her usual morning checks. She signed into Facebook and typed in the name, ‘Sarah Lewis’. Twenty minutes later, after logging in and out of every social networking site on her list, she sighed. Sarah was still in virtual hiding, but no matter.
Having Sarah back in the cross hairs made Alex’s life complete. Oh, to have seen the reaction on her face would have been priceless. She wondered if the poky little cottage in the middle of Hicksville was on the market yet. She clicked into Rightmove.com and added it to her favourites. It wouldn’t be long.
She thanked God for this age of electronic access that prevented total anonymity. People could always be found, if one knew where to look. Dark corners didn’t
Eddie filled the screen with two separate images: the photograph and a freeze-frame of the video.
‘What lighting did we use that morning, Bryant?’
He still hadn’t looked at the screen.
‘The spotlamp, ’cos Dawson couldn’t find the light switch.’
She nodded. ‘So it was the exact same conditions. No natural light, no movement of the lamp?’
‘Suppose so.’
‘Okay, look at this,’ she said, motioning him closer. ‘See that black mass creeping up the wardrobe?’
He nodded.
‘Where is it on the photo?’
He looked closer and glanced from one to the other.
Bryant stood back and looked at her.
‘Guv, are you saying what I think you’re saying?’
She took a deep breath before speaking.
‘Yes. Bryant, there was someone else in the room.’
NINETEEN
‘Am yer serious, boss?’ Stacey asked, quietly.
Kim nodded her head. ‘Checked the footage last night. Definitely the shadow of a figure.’ She nodded backwards towards Bryant. ‘Me and Columbo went back to the property to recreate it with the lamp placement and a video camera. It’s definitely a person.’
Dawson pushed a folder roughly across his desk.
‘Mature, Kev,’ Kim snapped.
He coloured and looked away. ‘Sorry, Guv.’
She turned back to Stacey, who was still glaring at Dawson.
‘Find out everything about Leonard Dunn’s neighbours, family members, everybody he’s ever worked with, spoken to or brushed past on the bus. I want to know if any of them are on The List.’
It was what they all called the register of sex offenders.
The initial clue to the abuse had come to them from a perceptive and attentive school teacher. But the focus of the investigation had been on Leonard alone. And when they’d got him, they’d thought the case was closed. Damn it, they were hunting for another sicko who had been involved.
‘Kev, I want you to interview everyone again, especially the neighbours. If this person was a regular visitor, then someone must have seen them. Okay?’
‘What about Wendy Dunn?’ Bryant asked.
She shook her head. Not yet but that time would come.
‘Got any suspicions, boss?’ Stacey asked.
She certainly did, but she wasn’t going to share them yet.
Kim looked to Bryant.
‘Come on, partner. We’re clearing up.’
TWENTY
Alex hit the refresh button on each of the online news outlets she’d put into her favourites. What she should have been doing right now was meeting Ruth and collecting the data that was vital to her experiment; but the stupid bitch had got herself caught within forty-eight hours.
Alex had known that the incompetent police would eventually stumble over Ruth as a suspect, but she’d miscalculated. Either a police officer with a smattering of intelligence had landed the case or Ruth had left her name and address at the crime scene with a sign saying, ‘It was me’.
What she had expected was a few days, time enough to extract the information she required. Jesus, had she needed to draw the imbecile a picture? She’d been given the motivation, method and opportunity in the visualisation. Alex had hoped that Ruth’s one contribution to the process would have been a modicum of self-preservation.
Alex hit refresh again. No change. She turned her attention to her usual morning checks. She signed into Facebook and typed in the name, ‘Sarah Lewis’. Twenty minutes later, after logging in and out of every social networking site on her list, she sighed. Sarah was still in virtual hiding, but no matter.
Having Sarah back in the cross hairs made Alex’s life complete. Oh, to have seen the reaction on her face would have been priceless. She wondered if the poky little cottage in the middle of Hicksville was on the market yet. She clicked into Rightmove.com and added it to her favourites. It wouldn’t be long.
She thanked God for this age of electronic access that prevented total anonymity. People could always be found, if one knew where to look. Dark corners didn’t
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