Imagine the scandal if the matter got out to the press. It was an appealingly bizarre conjectural problem. And his solution was suitably peculiar to it.”
“That’s right,” said April. “Masters was intrigued by the proposition. He decided that in order to commit the perfect crime an agent was needed, a fall guy. So he contacted various clinics and hospitals to ask them about the psychological profiles of their patients.”
“And he found someone made for the job,” Bryant explained. “A man who would harm if carefully directed and provided with the correct means. It was Masters who placed the request to have Pellew released, with the weight of the MOD behind him. And armed with Pellew’s confidential patient records, it was Masters who gave him the syringes. Under those circumstances, how hard was it to get Pellew to fall back into his old habits, do you think? I mean, by pushing the right psychological buttons and supplying the method?”
“So Theseus got the poor, deranged Pellew released through Masters, who offered him easy victims?” asked Longbright.
“That’s right,” Bryant agreed. “All Pellew had to do was specify where and when he was prepared to commit the acts he had fantasised about for so long.”
“And he wanted to perform his little psychodramas in pubs,” said Kershaw.
“Of course; they were the only places in which he would operate. It was why he had kidnapped his girlfriend in the past, what had led to his original conviction. Masters would have known that.”
“Stranger things have happened,” said May. “It could have been the perfect cover-up. With the deaths traceable only as far as a reoffending mental patient, there could be no sign of Theseus’s involvement. The entire matter would have been sealed, and the plan couldn’t be traced back. But no-one considered the idea that their killer might want to be caught. He started leaving behind clues.”
“Funny how you only ever really find out what people are capable of when their plans go wrong,” said Longbright, thinking about the increasingly panicked Masters.
“I hate to say I told you so.” Bryant gleamed. “Pellew knew he was being manipulated and hated it, so he set out to be caught. I can’t imagine the mental turmoil he must have been going through. No wonder he ended up running into the traffic before he could be brought to justice. But his death left others who could still go public.”
“Masters had already gone to extraordinary lengths to comply with whatever Pellew said he needed to carry out Theseus’s cover-up,” said April, “and because he insisted on catching Carol Wynley on her way home, they were forced to fake up the front of a public house to lure her in – ”
“I told you I hadn’t imagined it,” Bryant interrupted. “You all thought I was going barmy. Once Pellew had started, he couldn’t be stopped without giving the game away. By this time, Theseus must have been so desperate for the rest of Masters’s plan to work that they were prepared to hire a designer and a couple of scenery-shifters to knock up a simple
“ – that no-one but you could have found him, Arthur,” said May, sipping his bitter.
“I must admit, I do find myself intrigued by the strange pairing of Pellew and Masters. Pellew’s profile pegged him as an egotist unable to empathise with others. True to type, he appears to have been selfish, withdrawn, incapable of normal social interaction. How surprised must he have been by his sudden release? He was aware of the appalling nature of his actions – why else would he try to guarantee his own capture? But Masters’s behaviour, supposedly acting for the greater good, must have puzzled him. And Pellew was on a roll. Part of him was addicted to the thrill of the hunt, part of him was abominably ashamed. Still, the aberrant behaviour patterns that had been reawoken in him were enough to drive him to attack a woman who wasn’t on the list, purely out of desire.”
“Jazmina Sherwin, the girl who was assaulted in the Albion, Barnsbury,” said Bimsley, grasping the bigger picture.
“So, what happens now?” asked Longbright.
“We have to go after Theseus,” said Bryant, without pausing to think.
“We’ve got no status, no office, no dosh,” said Meera disconsolately. “And we’re working out of a pub.”
“Besides, Theseus is a government outsource,” May reminded him. “How far do you honestly think you’ll get?”
“When a democratic government is no longer accountable for its actions, it becomes a dictatorship. Besides, who says they even know what’s been going on? The Ministry of Defence is a law unto itself. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve hung Theseus out to dry.”
Behind them, the door banged open and Raymond Land burst in wearing a plastic mackintosh, spraying water around like a retriever emerging from a pond. “Ah, here you all are. I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” He shook his umbrella violently, searching for somewhere to leave it.
“Get you a drink?” asked Renfield.
“No, no, can’t stop unfortunately, the wife will give me hell. Purely a business call.” He turned to his detectives and saw the paperwork spread on the table. “Should you be examining evidence in a pub?”
“They’re only copies,” April explained. “Obviously the originals are safely stowed away.”
“Quite. Understood. You should know that Leslie Faraday has promised to try and find you new accommodation as soon as possible. This won’t be forever, you know. You can’t operate out of a pub.”
“Come off it, Raymondo,” said Bryant. “You know as well as I do that they’ve finally got us where they want us. What’s the likelihood of them rehousing the unit somewhere else?”
“I do see your point, but I’m not here to discuss that. It’s rather more serious, I’m afraid.” He drew a fortifying breath. “To me has fallen the unpleasant task of placing you and Mr May under arrest.”
“What on earth for?” asked May, startled.
“Breach of the Official Secrets Act, I’m afraid.”
“But we don’t operate under its jurisdiction.”
“Since the Peculiar Crimes Unit is answerable to the Home Office, you are government employees. You have knowingly disseminated information from protected Ministry of Defence sources.”
“I forwarded Jocelyn Roquesby’s computer files to the office terminal,” April admitted. “It never occurred to me that it was already in someone else’s hands – ”
“So you’ll both have to come with me to West End Central and face charges.” Land’s determination faded into sheepishness.
“We’d love to help you,
“What has that got to do with anything?” asked Land.
“Well, due to a mix-up with certain clauses in the Land Registry Act several centuries ago, Ye Olde Mitre is not, technically speaking, part of London, but in ancient Cambridgeshire. The City of London police have no jurisdiction in here.”
“You’re having a laugh, aren’t you?” Land turned to the barman, dumbfounded. “He’s having a laugh, isn’t he? Is this true?”
“I’m afraid so, mate,” said the barman. “No-one can be arrested within the pub or in the immediate environs of Ely Court. This isn’t London, it’s Cambridge. Don’t look at me, I’m Australian. You lot are the ones with the bloody silly laws.”
Bryant coaxed his distraught boss to a stool and helped him from his mackintosh. “And as we’re not going to be leaving here until well after the last bell has sounded,” he said, “you might as well get another round in for all of us.”
