Manning looked up from her notebook. “It’s fine. We do more with less.”
“Forget the titles,” Kapoor said to Alice. “And please, call me Meera.”
“Sure.”
“First, I can make an appointment with one of the Havens for you. Paddington is the nearest.”
“The paramedic told me about it. But I haven’t decided yet.”
“That’s okay. It’s up to you. I can go with you if you like? If I’m off shift, I might be able to arrange another SOIT, or you can go with someone you trust. A friend?”
“I might go alone, if that’s okay?”
“No problem. Whatever you feel comfortable with.”
Alice nodded. “Thanks.”
“Why don't you tell us everything that happened?”
Alice told them almost everything that happened. She held back on the mace, and claimed she fought like a demon with her arms and legs.
When Alice finished, Kapoor asked, “Who has keys to the house?”
“Ian, myself and the estate agents. I guess Ian’s parents too.”
“Would your boyfriend have any reason to install the camera in the bedroom?”
“No. I can't imagine why. It wasn’t Ian in the bedroom, if that’s what you're implying?”
Kapoor shrugged. “Sorry. Have to ask.”
“It was the estate agent, Mark Flanagan. For sure.”
“But you didn’t recognise him when he assaulted you?”
Alice shook her head. “He wore a mask. A balaclava. He turned the radio up loud and spoke in a low voice. Like a whisper. I couldn't hear everything he said.”
“Did you scratch him when you fought him off?”
“No. The mask? I lashed out with my feet and hands.”
Kapoor cocked her head. “And he ran away after that?”
Alice nodded. “Yeah.”
“Hmm.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “We’ll have to see what the SOCOs turn up. But this could have something to do with South Kensington. Someone broke your window. You received a lot of threats on social media.”
“Maybe someone is using the terror stuff as an excuse? Someone like Flanagan?”
“Could be. Remember, others in the agency would have access to the keys and the alarm code.”
“He was the only one we dealt with. He’s Ian’s boss’s son.”
“I see.”
“You think he’ll come back?”
“In my experience, these things are once off. But you need to change the locks and your alarm code. And we’ll talk to Flanagan. If it’s him, we’ll find out soon enough.”
“It’s him.”
Kapoor looked at Manning, then back to Alice. “You’ll be safe with new locks. He’ll have no way of getting in. And you need to take the house off the market until we solve this.”
“Flanagan’s probably at home. You could arrest him.”
“Let me talk to my superiors and see what we can do.”
“Why can't you go get him now?”
“Due process, Alice. It protects the innocent and convicts the guilty.”
“Oh really? It would be terrible to arrest someone for something they didn't do, huh?”
72
DS Kapoor and DC Manning sat in an unmarked police car outside the house Mark Flanagan shared with four others. It was 9:50AM according to the clock on the dashboard, and Kapoor was getting impatient. “I think we should go in and get him, rather than wait for him to leave. Supposing he’s not there?”
“Thorne told us to wait until he comes out and do it quietly. He wanted discretion on this, hence the bullshit about finding out his movements this morning.”
“I know what he said. Doesn't mean I agree with him. You want to sit here all day?”
“Your call, Sarge. I'll do what I’m told.”
“By me or Thorne?”
Manning shrugged. “By whatever superior is present. Shit floats up, right?”
Kapoor ignored her and stared at Flanagan’s door. She shook her head. “Sod it. We’re going in.”
“Sure. How do you want to play it?”
“We’ll talk to him first, feel him out, then take him to the station.”
At the door, Kapoor nodded at Manning, then she rapped on the door while Kapoor pressed the buzzer. They waited 15 seconds before they pounded again. Someone shouted inside and the door opened. A guy in his early twenties with just out of bed hair, dressed in shorts and tee-shirt, poked his head out. “Yeah?” he asked.
“Police,” Kapoor said. She flashed her warrant card and Manning did the same. “We need to speak with Mark Flanagan. Is that you?”
“Nah. He’s in bed. I think.”
“Can we come in?” Kapoor asked.
“Don't you need a search warrant or something?” he asked.
“What’s your name?” Manning asked.
“Peter Wilkinson.”
“Okay, Peter. We don't need a search warrant because we’re not searching for anything yet.”
“Um, I still think you better wait here.” He went to shut the door, but Kapoor jammed her foot in the way.
“It’s better if we wait inside. In the hallway.”
“No way. I know my rights,” he said. He pushed back on the door. “You wait out here. I’ll go get him.”
Kapoor backed off and the door slammed shut. She heard him tramp up the stairs and bang on a door.
His voice was muffled, but she understood him. “Yo Mark? The old bill is here. They wanna talk to you. Yo Mark?” Then silence. She opened the letterbox and listened. Traces of a whispered conversation reached her, but the meaning got lost along the way. She let the letter-box clack shut. Then Wilkinson spoke from behind the door. “He’s getting dressed. Be down in a minute.”
Five long minutes passed. Kapoor lost patience. “To hell with this.” She banged on the door. “Police. Open up. Now.”
Again, she heard Wilkinson. “He’s getting dressed I told you.”
She looked at Manning. “You think there’s a back exit?”
Manning shrugged. “How would I know?”
Kapoor hammered on the door. “Peter. Open the door now or we’ll break it down.” Manning raised an eyebrow, but Kapoor ignored her. Then the door opened. Kapoor charged in.
