don’t need some bloody doctor telling me how to catch a bunch of homicidal poofters.’ He turned back to Carol. ‘Escort Doctor Hill off the premises, Inspector.’ He managed to make her rank sound like an insult. ‘And when you’ve done that, you can come back here and fill me in on what you’ve managed to find out about our last killer.’
‘Very good, sir. Oh, by the way, you might like to join the ACC. He’s giving an impromptu press conference round the front.’ This time, the sweetness was tinged with acerbity.
Cross gave a perfunctory glance at the body lying exposed in the yard. ‘Well, he ’s not going any place, is he?’ he remarked. ‘Right, Inspector, I’ll expect a report just as soon as I’ve finished with the ACC and the press.’ He turned on his heel and stormed out as noisily as he’d arrived.
Carol put a hand on Tony’s elbow and steered him out of the gate. ‘This is going to be worth seeing,’ she muttered in his ear as she ushered him down the alley in Cross’s wake.
Half a dozen reporters had joined Penny Burgess behind the yellow plastic tapes. John Brandon faced them. As they grew closer, they could hear the cacophony of questions the press were hurling at the ACC. Carol and Tony hung back as Cross pushed past a constable standing at Brandon’s shoulder and shouted, ‘One at a time, ladies and gentlemen. You’ll all get heard.’
Brandon half turned towards Cross, his face expressionless. ‘Thank you, Superintendent Cross.’
‘Have we got a serial killer loose in Bradfield?’ Penny Burgess demanded, her voice cutting through the momentary quiet like the cry of some bird of ill omen.
‘There’s no reason to suppose…’ Cross started.
Brandon cut across him icily. ‘Leave this to me, Tom,’ he said. ‘As I said a moment ago, this afternoon we have found the body of a white male in his late twenties or early thirties. It’s too soon to be one hundred per cent certain, but there are indications that this killing may be connected to three previous homicides that have taken place in Bradfield over the last nine months.’
‘Does that mean you’re treating these murders as the work of one serial killer?’ asked a young man with a tape recorder thrust forward like a cattle prod.
‘We are examining the possibility that one perpetrator is responsible for all four crimes, yes.’
Cross looked as if he wanted to hit someone. His hands were bunched into fists at his sides, his brows so low they must have cut his vision to a slit. ‘Though it’s only a possibility at this stage,’ he said mutinously.
Penny chipped in ahead of the opposition again. ‘How will this affect your approach to the investigation, Mr Brandon?’
‘As of today, we will be amalgamating the three previous murder enquiries with this latest one into a single major incident task force. We will be making full use of the Home Office Large Major Enquiry System computer to analyse the available data, and we are confident that this will enable us to develop new leads,’ Brandon said, his lugubrious face belying the optimism in his voice.
‘Yo, go for it,’ Carol muttered under her breath.
‘Haven’t you left it a bit late? Hasn’t the murderer had a head start because you wouldn’t acknowledge he was a serial killer?’ a voice from the rear of the pack shouted angrily.
Brandon squared his shoulders and looked stern. ‘We’re policemen, not clairvoyants. We don’t theorize ahead of the evidence. Rest assured, we will be doing everything within our power to bring this killer to justice as swiftly as is humanly possible.’
‘Will you be using a psychological profiler?’ It was Penny Burgess again. Tom Cross shot Tony a look of pure hatred.
Brandon smiled. ‘That’s all for now, ladies and gentlemen. There will be a statement later from the force press office. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we’ve got a lot of work to do.’ He nodded benevolently towards the press, then he turned away, taking Cross firmly by the elbow. They walked back towards the alley, Cross’s back rigid with fury. Carol and Tony followed a few paces behind. As they went, Penny Burgess’s voice rang out behind them. ‘Inspector Jordan? Who’s the new boy?’
‘God, that woman doesn’t miss a trick,’ Carol muttered.
‘I’d better keep out of her way, then,’ Tony remarked. ‘Me ending up front-page news could be a serious health hazard.’
Carol stopped in her tracks. ‘You mean the killer could target you?’
Tony grinned. ‘No. I mean your Chief Constable would have an apoplexy.’
The irresistible urge to mirror his smile hit Carol. This man was unlike any Home Office Jobsworth she’d ever encountered. Not only did he have a sense of humour, he didn’t mind being indiscreet. And close up, he definitely fell into the category her friend Lucy described as ‘a bit chewy’. He was showing signs of being the first interesting man she’d met in the Job for a very long time. ‘You could be right,’ was all she said, managing to sound noncommittal enough for her words not to be held against her.
They reached the corner of the alley in time to see Tom Cross round on Brandon. ‘With respect, sir, you just contradicted everything I’ve been telling them buggers since this sideshow started.’
‘It’s time for a different approach, Tom,’ Brandon said coolly.
‘So why not discuss it with me instead of making me look a dickhead in front of that mob? Not to mention my own men.’ Cross leaned forward belligerently. His hand strayed upwards, index finger pointed, as if he were going to stab Brandon in the chest with it. But common sense careerism prevailed, and the hand dropped back by his side.
‘You think if I’d had you in my office and suggested a different approach I’d have got one?’ There was steel beneath the mildness in Brandon’s voice, and Cross recognized it.
His lower jaw jutted. ‘At the end of the day, operational decisions are down to me,’ he said. Beneath the belligerence, Tony pictured a small boy, an aggressive bully resenting the adults who still had the power to sort him out.
‘But I’m the ACC Crime and the buck stops with me. I make the policy decisions, and I’ve just made one that happens to impact on your sphere of operations. From now on, this is one single major incident enquiry. Is that clear, Tom? Or do you want to take it further?’ For the first time, Carol saw for herself how John Brandon had climbed so far up the greasy pole. The threat in his voice was no empty posturing. He was clearly prepared to do whatever it took to achieve his ends, and he acted with all the assurance of a man used to winning. There was nowhere left for Tom Cross to go.
Cross rounded on Carol. ‘Have you got nothing better to do, Inspector?’
‘I’m waiting to make my report, sir,’ she said. ‘You told me to wait for you after the press conference.’
‘Before you get into that… Tom, let me introduce you to Dr Tony Hill,’ Brandon said, motioning Tony to come forward.
‘We’ve met,’ Cross said, sullen as a schoolboy.
‘Dr Hill has agreed to work closely with us in this investigation. He’s got more experience in profiling serial offenders than just about anybody else in the country. He’s also agreed to keep his involvement under wraps.’
Tony gave a self-deprecating, diplomatic smile. ‘That’s right. The last thing I want is to turn your enquiry into a sideshow. If there’s any credit going when we nail this bastard, I want it to go to your team. They’ll be the ones doing the work, after all.’
‘You’re not wrong there,’ Cross muttered. ‘I don’t want you under our feet, getting in the road.’
‘None of us want that, Tom,’ Brandon said. ‘That’s why I’ve asked Carol to act as liaison officer between Tony and us.’
‘I can’t afford to lose a senior officer at a time like this,’ Cross protested.
‘You’re not losing her,’ Brandon said. ‘You’re gaining an officer with a unique overview of all the cases. Could prove invaluable, Tom.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘I better be off. The Chief’s going to want a briefing on this one. Keep me posted, Tom.’ Brandon sketched a wave and stepped back into the street and out of sight.
Cross pulled a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket and lit up. ‘You know your trouble, Inspector?’ he said. ‘You’re not as smart as you like to think you are. One step out of line, lady, and I’ll have your guts for a jock strap.’ He took a deep drag of his cigarette and leaned forward to blow smoke in Carol’s direction. The gesture was ruined by the gust of wind that snatched the smoke away before it reached her. Looking disgusted, Cross turned on his heel and marched back to the scene of the crime.
‘You meet a nice class of person in this job,’ Carol said.
‘At least I know now which way the wind blows,’ Tony replied. As he spoke, he felt a drop of rain on his
