‘Yes, sir.’
‘Don’t underestimate my resolve. The previous commissioner and your political friends will not be able to save you if I decide to act. Is that clear?’
‘Clear, sir.’
‘Good. Now leave and get on with it.’
Richard Goddard, with the exalted title of detective chief superintendent, left the room like an errant schoolboy summoned to the teacher’s office for a dressing down. He was not in the best temper when he left. He needed someone on whom to take out his frustration; Isaac seemed the best person for that.
Chapter 26
‘Isaac, I’ve received a right bollocking from the commissioner.’ It was unusual for the DCS to use bad language, a clear indication that his visit was not social. Isaac braced himself for what was to come.
‘It’s to be expected, sir,’ Isaac replied to Goddard’s opening comment, after the DCS had firmly closed Isaac’s office door behind him.
‘Just because you’re stuffing around, I’m forced to allow the commissioner to take it out on me. I may resent the man, but he’s still our boss.’
‘Under the circumstances, the team is working well,’ Isaac said.
‘What is it with this woman? It’s not as if you don’t know who the guilty person is.’
‘Agreed, sir, but she blends in easily.’
‘We know that already, but what are you doing to find her?’
‘Sergeant Gladstone and Larry Hill are out in the field looking for her, conducting door-to-doors. Inspector Marshall and Sergeant O’Riordan are checking out old haunts, previous murder locations.’
‘The woman is hardly likely to do that; but then again, she and the commissioner may be right, this department under your tutelage is incompetent.’
‘I resent that, sir.’
‘Maybe you do, but I’m tired of taking flak from his holiness in his ivory tower at Scotland Yard. He instructed me once before to put you on restricted duties, even to suspend you, but I didn’t. And now it’s on my record that I acted against advice. If she kills again, the commissioner will have me on restricted duties along with you, and I do not intend to allow that to happen. He wants to bring in someone else to run this investigation; someone from his previous command, although what good that will do, coming in cold to the case, is unclear.’
‘Understood.’
Goddard, after venting his spleen on Isaac, felt his frustration at the meeting with the commissioner subside. He took a seat. Bridget, outside, noticing the mellowing atmosphere in Isaac’s office and regarding it as safe to enter, came in with a cup of tea for each of the two men.
‘Isaac, what can be done?’ Goddard said calmly after Bridget had left.
‘You’re right, DCS. It should be easy. All we have to do now is to protect the living and to find one woman.’
‘So why can’t you find her?’
‘She just has an uncanny ability. She always disguises herself, and she’s not using bank or credit cards.’
‘She must have money then.’
‘The last man she killed had money hidden under his bed.’
‘She stole it?’
‘It’s the only explanation. The man’s ex-wife turned up at the crime scene soon after the body had been discovered. We used her for a positive ID later. Anyway, she was convinced that he had stashed his money somewhere. Called him a miserable old skinflint.’
‘You checked?’
‘Of course, sir. Found some money, but not much.’
‘The commissioner’s receiving flak over this woman.’
‘You don’t care much for him, sir?’
‘Not the issue, is it?’
***
Since the incident with the photo in Newcastle the investigation had been progressing satisfactorily, and thankfully there had been no further deaths. Standard policing was being followed, and the paperwork, always too much, was up to date and in line with regulations. The new commissioner regarded the process as important, and while Isaac did not enjoy that side of his job, he had to reluctantly admit that it was necessary. Get a smart lawyer for the defence and any shoddy paperwork would soon be relegated to the rubbish bin as inadmissible evidence.
It had happened a few times in the past, even to Isaac, and nothing irked more than to see a guilty person walk free, thumbing their nose at the police. Isaac did not intend for that to happen this time. He was still smarting from the embarrassing photo, and the woman was already thumbing her nose, and she was not even in custody.
Admittedly, she was not doing it as much as in the past, as the woman’s attempts to use social media had mostly been curtailed. Each time she posted, it was from another location. It had been possible to trace the locations, and they were always internet cafés, spread throughout the country. Her last post had been close in to London.
Wendy and Larry, hot on the trail, had missed Charlotte by no more than two hours at the last internet café. The man behind the counter had been surly when questioned, claiming that he had seen no one suspicious. Questioned further, he admitted he had seen a woman matching the woman in the photo that Larry showed him. The café, no more than twenty miles from London, had provided further proof that Charlotte was close by, although the only witness was vague and could hardly be regarded as reliable.
***
Charlotte reclined on her bed at the hotel. She was not sure what to do next. The key players were all in position, but how to execute her plan concerned her. She knew that when she made her first move, she would become more visible.
There she was in plain view, and no one had seen her, not Gladys Lake nor Sara Marshall. She had not seen DCI Cook yet, but she was determined to obtain one more
