“But what can I do?”
“Nothing until we get that damn list from SO15.” Kapoor shook her head. “Sod it. I’m gonna call Marks.”
“Good luck. You want me to get you a coffee?”
Kapoor nodded and picked up her phone. When Manning left, Kapoor scrolled through her contacts until she found Marks.
“Yes?”
“Inspector, this is DS Kapoor from...”
“I know who you are.”
Kapoor rolled her eyes at the interruption. “I’m the OIC in a sexual assault case involving Alice Madsen. You had her in custody in connection with the South Kensington attack...”
“What has this got to do with SO15?”
“I’ve submitted a request for a list of witnesses to the attack. Our working theory is that a witness to the attack may have sexually assaulted her. We would like to identify males in the 20-40 age group present at the scene who had a relative or friend injured or killed in the attack. Then we want to investigate whether any of their mobile phones were in the Portobello Close area during the time of the assault.”
“Sergeant, you are aware we deal with terrorist offences in SO15?”
“Yes, Sir.” She heard Marks tapping on a keyboard.
“Is this a terrorist offence?”
Kapoor rubbed the back of her neck to ease the tight muscles. “No, Sir.”
“So what do you expect me to do?”
Kapoor took a deep breath. “I think you owe Alice Madsen, Sir.”
Marks laughed. “For what?”
“Arresting her when she had no involvement.”
Marks grunted and continued at the keyboard. “I’m looking at the case file. It mentions Captagon.”
“Yes, Sir. The perpetrator dropped a bag containing the pills.”
“Interesting. Partial prints on some pills. Okay, we’ll run those.”
“Can you get me the information I need on the phones in Portobello Close?”
“Let’s look at the Captagon first. According to the case file, Madsen claimed her assailant dropped them during a struggle.”
“That’s correct, Sir. Yes.”
“Is there any possibility the Captagon is Madsen’s?”
“No.” Kapoor ran her fingers through her hair. “I mean, why would she give it to us?”
“Madsen could be playing you.”
“With respect, Sir. She’s not. I believe revenge drove her attacker and he is now obsessed with her. There is a likelihood of a further attack, and I want to prevent that. We owe her. You owe her.”
Marks snorted. “I owe the citizens of this city a duty of care to protect them from terror attacks.”
“The needs of the many, huh?”
“Not sure I understand.”
“I’m sure you do, Inspector.”
“Look, Sergeant. I don't trust Madsen. For all I know, Madsen and her alleged assailant are conspiring together.”
“For God’s sake, Inspector. He tied her to the bed and sexually assaulted her.”
“Have you seen the photograph in her lounge? I think you’ll find she likes a bit of rough.”
90
Laura finished making a list of the people she wanted to interview. Researchers had given her more than she needed, but she used her judgement to whittle down the number. The two she needed most of all were Alice Madsen and Lewis Cole. She called Alice first.
“Alice, hi. It’s Laura Bowfield from Xtra News.”
“Oh yeah?”
“I’m very sorry to hear about what happened. Are you all right?”
“You calling to find out how I am?”
“Partly, yes. That shouldn't happen to anyone. Listen, Alice. Perhaps we could help?”
“Help? How?”
“Do an interview with...”
Alice’s laugh was bitter. “Like that’s a priority of mine right now.”
“I was thinking Monday or Tuesday. You could show people you were a victim of the attack as much as the others.”
“Are you crazy? No. They’ll never see me as a victim. It’ll be an excuse for more hate. Did you know he had a camera in my bedroom for weeks?”
“Jesus. I didn’t know.” Laura held the phone tighter. “Wait, Alice. Do you know this guy? How did he...”
“It’s a long story.”
“Then you need to tell it.”
“I don't think so.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m already an object of hate, and what will people think if he shares those videos?”
“Have you seen them?”
“Yes. The police recovered the deleted files from the SD card in the camera. Sometimes I think they’re useless because the quality is so poor and there’s nothing bad in them, but other times, like today, I feel invaded. We moved into a hotel in Ladbroke Grove for a few days, just in case. The whole thing is getting me down. They’ve no suspects.” Alice sounded like she was ready to break down. “I’ve said too much. I can't trust journalists.”
“Can I try to build trust? Will you give me a chance?”
“Like what? Editorial control?”
Laura laughed. “You know that can’t happen. I’ll tell you what, though. We could meet and talk. You know, feel it out.”
Alice hesitated. “Why should I help you?”
“You’ll be helping yourself. Think of this as an opportunity.”
“I don't know.”
“Let’s meet up. If you don't like me or what I can do, we call it off. How about that?”
“That might work.” She sounded uncertain. “But no promises, okay?”
“What hotel are you in?”
“The Metro.”
“Great, Alice. How about tomorrow?”
Laura smiled to herself. One down. Next, she called Lewis Cole, but his phone went to voice mail, and rather than leave a message, Laura closed the call. She’d get Cole soon enough.
91
On Sunday, Kristin sat back on the Heathrow Express to Paddington and called Alice. “Hey. Just back from the show, on the train. Got your text. What’s up?”
“A long story.”
“You sound funny. Everything all right?”
“No.”
Kristin sat up straight. “What’s wrong?”
“Could you come over? We’re in the house.”
“Sure. But what happened?”
“I’ll tell
