‘Can you remember when this was?’
‘The summer, July, August maybe?’
‘And have you seen Forester or this other man since?’
‘No.’ Julie paused and looked over at the boys, her face saddened and reflective. ‘Forester was probably no different from these kids. Then things went wrong, like they do for so many of them. I heard he used to take quite good pictures once.’
The four boys whooped and shouted and Enders was prancing round the field like he was up front for Brazil. The ball flew back and forth between them and Enders’s smile was as wide and natural as the boys. Riley wondered when the fork in the road would come for them.
‘Anything else about Forester?’
‘Not that I can think of. I’ll ask around, ask the kids. They tell me things they wouldn’t tell their parents, things you wouldn’t believe.’
‘Thanks. Talking of kids, shouldn’t this lot be in school? I sort of think I should be reporting them to someone.’
‘You do that Detective Clever Clogs,’ she laughed. ‘But you’ll look a bloody idiot if you do.’
‘Why is that then?’
‘It’s the half-term holiday.’
Riley shook his head and smiled.
‘Thanks for telling me.’ He said, pulling out his card and handing it over. ‘If you think of anything else then please let me know.’
‘No problem. And thank you for offering to take the boys to a Chelsea game. I’m going to hold you to that.’
‘I thought you might.’ Riley stopped and, realising what he was about to say, his pulse began to quicken. ‘I’ll do it on one condition.’
‘Which is?’
‘You come too.’
Riley and Enders walked back to their car, Enders trying to brush a patch of dirt from his jacket where he had taken a tumble.
‘That woman was a bit tasty, hey Darius my old Wily Riley?’ Enders smiled and gave Riley a wink.
‘Julie?’
‘“Julie?”’ Enders echoed Riley’s voice. ‘Don’t play the innocent with me, I saw you flirting with Miss Julie fresh-as-summer Meadows. Well, I wouldn’t mind going round and mowing her lawn once a week. Twice if it needs it.’
‘Thanks for the fascinating insight, Constable. Your opinion of Ms Meadows is duly noted. I’ll tell the boss shall I? Maybe your wife?’
‘Ah, well, no need to do that.’ Enders squirmed and changed the subject. ‘Did you discover anything of use?’
‘Forester was pushing drugs down here for sure. Supplying the young addicts and getting his legover while doing it. And then there were the videos.’
‘We knew that, didn’t we? Doesn’t get us any closer to finding Kelly’s killer though.’
‘There was another guy with a camera too. Seems like Forester and this guy had an argument over Kelly.’
‘Well, she was hot and had a lot for them to argue over.’ Enders grinned. ‘But if the pictures the boss showed me are anything to judge by they could have had one each and there would still have been enough to go round.’
‘Jesus, Patrick! You are way out of order. The girl is dead, OK? I witnessed her body getting sliced open down the morgue, guts and everything on a tray. Some guy raped and killed her and all you can do is make smutty jokes.’ Riley stared at Enders until he was sure he had got the message.
‘What about this other guy?’ Enders said after a while, sounding admonished if not contrite. ‘Forester kills Kelly and does this guy too. Then he does a runner.’
‘Could be, but we’re missing something, I know we are.’
‘Well?’ Enders ruffled his hair, dislodging a piece of mud. ‘What is it?’
‘I reckon I am a good detective,’ Riley pointed his key fob at the car and bleeped the locks. ‘But unfortunately I am not a bloody clairvoyant.’
Chapter 15
Crownhill Police Station, Plymouth. Thursday 28th October. 12.30 pm
‘So the two killings are linked?’ Hardin’s hand hovered over his mouse, an almost imperceptible shake visible. A flush of red had seeped in across his nose and cheeks and Savage wondered if he was already imagining possible headlines for the local papers.
‘Linked is not the right word,’ Savage said. ‘Related is better.’
‘But the picture is not actually of the Olivarez girl?’
‘The likeness is uncanny at first, although when you look closer you can tell it is not her. The photograph isn’t recent for one thing. On the back is a Boots Chemist watermark so we scanned a copy and sent it off to their head office. According to them the logo is from the late seventies or early eighties.’
‘Bloody hell. Are they sure about those dates?’
‘Pretty much. We are sending them a sample of the photograph so they can do some further analysis. Unfortunately they can’t say which of their labs did the development. As for the content in the picture, well, you have seen for yourself.’
‘The girl is standing half-facing the camera. White underwear. The bed in the background and the other furniture suggest a bedroom.’
‘Yes. Appears to be a candid shot too, so not posed.’
‘But where and who? And what the hell has it got to do with the Leash case?’
‘Maybe nothing.’
‘Or maybe everything.’
Savage wriggled on the chair, smoothing her skirt and flicking a piece of fluff to the floor. She didn’t want to think about the possible connections because if true they had a murderer or murderers who had now killed twice. In all likelihood that meant they would do so again.
‘Right, Charlotte, I can tell you Zebo is going to be ramped up. Garrett stays on Leash but will lose some bodies to you. I will be SIO, but you’ll get a fair crack of the whip.’
Hardin began to run down a checklist on the screen in front of him, clicking items with his mouse as he went. He started waffling on about the PR angle, telling Savage everything had to go through the press officer. She wondered if he was more concerned with the image being projected than catching the killer.
‘I don’t need to tell you of the imperative to handle this one with care. We have already got massive media interest due to the discovery that Rosina Olivarez was murdered and now this.’
‘They like the naked girl bit. Spices things up.’
‘Creepy bastards. If I had my way I’d release nothing, keep them in the dark. It doesn’t make our job any easier having them snooping around, so the less we tell them the better. OK?’ Hardin looked at Savage, his head cocked on one side, his eyes expectant.
‘I’d like to put a national appeal out for David Forester to come forward.’
‘What? Damn!’ Hardin seemed to mull the idea over for a moment and a pained expression spread across his face. A finger quivered over the mouse button as he weighed up the pros and cons. ‘Do you think an appeal could work?’
‘It might. He has been on the run for weeks now and must be getting pretty fed up. If he is not fed up himself then I bet the person or people who are hiding him are. From what Riley came up with it seems as if Mr Forester
