Her thoughts whirled. The world around her spun. She let the phone fall to the table, but it bounced onto the ground with a clatter. The man beside her reached down with one hand and offered it back to her. “You sure you're okay?”
She grabbed the phone from him. “I’m fucking fine, thank you.”
“Whatever.” He shook his head and muttered something.
Kristin stared at the phone as if it was responsible for all her woes. She stabbed at the screen with one finger. The share icon displayed, and she poked at it so hard, the phone almost slipped from her tight grip.
102
Kapoor and Manning took a break from calling the people on the SO15 list. “This isn’t working,” Kapoor said. “I can't read the people by talking on the phone. It's just not the same.”
“Two of mine merit a follow up. I’d like to do a phone cross reference when we get the list.”
“Yeah. When.” Kapoor shook her head. “A few days if we’re lucky.”
“It mightn't be that useful, especially if the guy didn’t bring his phone. Or he’s not on the list.”
“This case is a bitch.”
Manning shrugged. “Let’s be blunt, Sarge, we don’t have a lot to go on, do we?”
“Thanks for reminding me.”
“We could sit on her house.”
“We don’t know what this guy looks like or even if he will return to the house. Thorne would have a fit if I suggested it.” Kapoor got to her feet and stretched. She bent at the waist and tried to touch her toes, but she couldn't reach, and she let out a long groan. “In the meantime, what am I supposed to tell Natalie Johnson?”
“Is Johnson a higher priority?”
Kapoor rubbed the back of her neck and wished she could ask Manning to massage her shoulders, instead she sat back down and stared off into the distance. “That’s a call I don’t want to make.”
“You’re the boss. You gotta call it.”
“I know. I know.” Kapoor sighed. “All right. We do all the calls on the list, then we work the Johnson case until we get the report back from the mobile carriers.”
“Maybe the guy will make a mistake?”
Kapoor clicked on the mouse and her screen powered up. “To make a mistake, he’s got to go after Madsen again.”
“And if he doesn't?”
“Then we may never get him.”
Manning got to her feet and walked away. She stopped and looked back. “It never ends, does it?”
“No. It never does.” Kapoor picked up her phone and dialled the next number on the list. It went to voice mail and she rolled her eyes as she left her well-rehearsed message.
103
Cole walked along Bethnal Green Road towards his flat on the other side of Weavers Fields. Each footstep weighed heavy. It was like he had to force one foot in front of the other. He wanted to go to the pub and get off his head, but he needed to go home and plan. The extra Xanax the hospital prescribed should help him through the next few days.
On one level, he had seen it coming. Ever since the Arab had mowed Daz over, it had been a downward spiral. Daz kept getting worse. Beeping machines. Tubes. Wires. Death. But every time Cole closed his eyes, the images of the blood draining from Daz’s face when the machines shut off played in his head like a video clip. No matter how he tried, he couldn’t delete it, and he had a suspicion the memory would haunt him.
If he had known the outcome, no bleeding hearts or do-gooders would have stopped him from killing the Arab. The thought of smashing the Arab’s face to pulp made Cole feel better, even though he knew it wasn’t real and never could be. But he still had a move to make, and his footsteps lightened as he thought about it.
His mood swung up and down with huge variation, and as he crossed Weavers Fields, he resolved to Xanax his mood down to a constant level and Captagon it up as needed to plan the next few days.
Cole almost tripped when he stubbed his toe against a brick some idiot had left on the edge of the path, but he carried on and marvelled at how he didn't notice the pain. He lit a cigarette and sucked on it with a fierce hunger. When the tip glowed red, he pressed it into the palm of his hand. He felt nothing.
A numbness had settled over him and he plunged into it with relief. The total absence of feeling made him smile at first, then it strengthened its hold on him. He threw the broken cigarette away and brushed his hands together. As he walked along the path, his phone buzzed with a direct Twitter message from someone called HardBoy97, and his grin broadened while he read. This guy sounded proper hard core. If his information was true, Cole would find it useful. Very useful.
104
Alice finished a sandwich in a small restaurant near Notting Hill and held a latte in both hands while she figured out her next move. She closed her eyes at the thought of her mother in the hospital on Nørre Allé and decided to return to Copenhagen. She’d check out of the hotel, spend one or two nights back in Portobello, then she’d go to Denmark for a week. It seemed reasonable that as long as Ian was with her, she’d be safe in Portobello Close.
Her
