was the double click of a lighter and cigarette smoke trailed in the still air. ‘Who can say what anyone would do under the right amount of pressure?’ Fulton replied. ‘And we don’t know whether the same person did both jobs anyway – although, apart from the fact that Lenny seems to have hung on to his balls, the two MOs are very similar.’
‘Both had their throats cut, certainly.’
‘More than that. Didn’t you notice the rear view mirror?’
‘The mirror?’
‘Yes, it was twisted at an unnatural angle.’
Gilham thought about that for a second. ‘Could have been knocked when Lenny fell across the seats,’ he suggested.
‘Unlikely, the way he was lying, and it wouldn’t have ended up at that sort of angle anyway. Don’t forget what Abbey Lee said about Lyall.’
‘So are you saying Lenny was forced to watch his own throat being cut, just like our late judge?’
‘Something like that. It’s possible that the killer was in the back seat, waiting for your man, and that he forced his head back against the headrest with one hand while he did the job with the other. He would have already worked out the best position for the mirror and no doubt adjusted it just before Lenny climbed behind the wheel.’
Gilham shivered. ‘A nice beauty.’
Fulton climbed into his car. ‘I can think of a better description. And one thing is very clear: whoever he is, he seems to be keeping very close tabs on us.’
Gilham glanced quickly into the surrounding woodland as his boss drove away and shivered again, feeling the mist that was rising through the gathering dusk settle on his shoulders like a clammy dead hand.
chapter 9
FULTON MADE A point of dropping into the LIO’s office when he returned to Saddler Street police station. George Oates was already packing up for the day, one hand on his computer mouse as he bent over his desk to shut down the demanding beast that dominated his working life. He winced when Fulton’s shed-like bulk darkened his doorway.
‘Thanks a lot, George,’ the big man drawled, studying him with open hostility. ‘Dee Honeywell and I had a real heart to heart over my vehicle check.’
Oates straightened and held up both hands in a defensive gesture. ‘What could I do, guv?’ he pleaded. ‘She is my boss and she had already sussed that you were up to something. I had to tell her in the end just to get her off my back.’
Fulton ignored his obvious preparations for the ‘off’ and dropped into the chair he had occupied on his previous visit. ‘Well, you can make amends by doing me another little favour,’ he growled.
Oates raised his eyes to the ceiling. ‘Guv, look—’
‘And this time it’s official.’
Oates sat down heavily in his swivel-chair. ‘But I was about to go home.’
Fulton snorted. ‘What, at this hour? Wish I had your job.’
‘You wouldn’t. I’ve been at an LIO conference all afternoon. Likely to put you off criminal intelligence for life.’
Fulton leaned forward. ‘What do you know about a lowlife called Lenny Baker?’
Oates raised an eyebrow. ‘The guy who’s just had his throat cut?’
‘How did you know about that?’
‘It’s my job to know what’s going on and there are such things in police stations as personal radios.’
Fulton ignored the sarcasm. ‘So, what about Baker then?’
Oates shrugged. ‘Local tea leaf. Likes – liked – to think of himself as a supergrass. Came up with some useful snippets from time to time though. Maybe your serial killer thought he’d seen too much and decided surgery was necessary.’
Fulton pursed his lips for a moment. ‘We don’t know he is a serial killer,’ he reminded him, ‘or that he stiffed both Lenny as well as the judge.’
‘OK, but from what I hear, the MOs are pretty similar anyway.’
‘Not quite. There doesn’t appear to have been any other form of mutilation this time.’
‘Both victims had their throats slit in the good old Sweeney Todd tradition though,
‘Both had their throats cut, certainly.’
‘More than that. Didn’t you notice the rear view mirror?’
‘The mirror?’
‘Yes, it was twisted at an unnatural angle.’
Gilham thought about that for a second. ‘Could have been knocked when Lenny fell across the seats,’ he suggested.
‘Unlikely, the way he was lying, and it wouldn’t have ended up at that sort of angle anyway. Don’t forget what Abbey Lee said about Lyall.’
‘So are you saying Lenny was forced to watch his own throat being cut, just like our late judge?’
‘Something like that. It’s possible that the killer was in the back seat, waiting for your man, and that he forced his head back against the headrest with one hand while he did the job with the other. He would have already worked out the best position for the mirror and no doubt adjusted it just before Lenny climbed behind the wheel.’
Gilham shivered. ‘A nice beauty.’
Fulton climbed into his car. ‘I can think of a better description. And one thing is very clear: whoever he is, he seems to be keeping very close tabs on us.’
Gilham glanced quickly into the surrounding woodland as his boss drove away and shivered again, feeling the mist that was rising through the gathering dusk settle on his shoulders like a clammy dead hand.
chapter 9
FULTON MADE A point of dropping into the LIO’s office when he returned to Saddler Street police station. George Oates was already packing up for the day, one hand on his computer mouse as he bent over his desk to shut down the demanding beast that dominated his working life. He winced when Fulton’s shed-like bulk darkened his doorway.
‘Thanks a lot, George,’ the big man drawled, studying him with open hostility. ‘Dee Honeywell and I had a real heart to heart over my vehicle check.’
Oates straightened and held up both hands in a defensive gesture. ‘What could I do, guv?’ he pleaded. ‘She is my boss and she had already sussed that you were up to something. I had to tell her in the end just to get her off my back.’
Fulton ignored his obvious preparations for the ‘off’ and dropped into the chair he had occupied on his previous visit. ‘Well, you can make amends by doing me another little favour,’ he growled.
Oates raised his eyes to the ceiling. ‘Guv, look—’
‘And this time it’s official.’
Oates sat down heavily in his swivel-chair. ‘But I was about to go home.’
Fulton snorted. ‘What, at this hour? Wish I had your job.’
‘You wouldn’t. I’ve been at an LIO conference all afternoon. Likely to put you off criminal intelligence for life.’
Fulton leaned forward. ‘What do you know about a lowlife called Lenny Baker?’
Oates raised an eyebrow. ‘The guy who’s just had his throat cut?’
‘How did you know about that?’
‘It’s my job to know what’s going on and there are such things in police stations as personal radios.’
Fulton ignored the sarcasm. ‘So, what about Baker then?’
Oates shrugged. ‘Local tea leaf. Likes – liked – to think of himself as a supergrass. Came up with some useful snippets from time to time though. Maybe your serial killer thought he’d seen too much and decided surgery was necessary.’
Fulton pursed his lips for a moment. ‘We don’t know he is a serial killer,’ he reminded him, ‘or that he stiffed both Lenny as well as the judge.’
‘OK, but from what I hear, the MOs are pretty similar anyway.’
‘Not quite. There doesn’t appear to have been any other form of mutilation this time.’
‘Both victims had their throats slit in the good old Sweeney Todd tradition though,
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