He would keep stonewalling them until they found a way to break through and force him to help, she realised.
Paggett’s accusation against Josh Ainsworth might be all the force they needed.
It didn’t need to be true and they didn’t need to believe it. Just as long as they appeared to when they spoke to the governor.
CHAPTER THIRTY
‘Can I have everyone’s attention, please?’
Zigic looked up from the report he was typing, the insistent pitch of Ferreira’s voice sending a bolt of anxiety through him.
‘Everyone, please,’ she said again.
He went into the main office as the last few officers on the floor spun around to face Ferreira where she was standing, in front of the big screen. As he got closer he saw a Twitter stream open, couldn’t read any individual message because she was blocking it off with her body.
‘We need to identify this Twitter user,’ she said, stepping aside. ‘PcthirtyOne, based in Peterborough and clearly either a serving or ex-officer, judging by his familiarity with procedure.’
‘Knowing procedure doesn’t mean they’re actual police,’ DC Lear said, from the far corner of the room. ‘They might be a groupie or some sad obsessive.’
‘No,’ Ferreira said firmly. ‘We’ve got the same ID used across several platforms, going back six years, during which they posted images from inside the station.’ Lear opened his mouth to offer another explanation but Ferreira didn’t give him a chance. ‘Not from common areas. This isn’t a visitor or a suspect. We’re looking at a copper.’
‘What have they done?’ Rob Weller asked, a hint of defensiveness in his tone.
‘We’ve got them tweeting at the official account about Josh Ainsworth’s death, Rob.’ Ferreira took a step towards his desk. ‘Which you were supposed to be keeping an eye on, weren’t you?’
‘Sorry, boss.’
‘PcthirtyOne has been offering us advice on how to investigate Joshua Ainsworth’s death,’ Ferreira said. ‘Which is pretty big of him, I think we can all agree.’
‘How do you know it’s a man?’ Lear asked.
‘Because nobody asked for his opinion but he’s giving it anyway,’ Ferreira snapped. ‘He seems to think we should be talking to Ainsworth’s patients and asking them about his “bedside manner”.’
‘Armchair psychologist,’ Murray said gruffly. ‘You know how social media brings them out.’
‘No, this guy knows something about Ainsworth. He knew Ainsworth worked at Long Fleet before we’d even gone public with his murder.’ Ferreira gestured at the screen behind her. ‘Tuesday afternoon, 2:14, we’ve got a tweet advising us to “ask the ladies of Long Fleet how warm his hands were”.’
Zigic saw the implications ripple through the room.
‘He must work at Long Fleet then,’ Keri Bloom said. ‘Who do we know who quit the force to go and work there?’
Her question was met with an awkward silence but Zigic noticed the look of approval Ferreira shot her.
‘Somebody knows who he is.’ Ferreira’s gaze moved slowly around the room and he followed it, searching for the same thing she was, a twitch of discomfort, an attempt at hiding it. ‘I want you all to take twenty minutes –’
A few low groans.
‘This is a murder investigation, in case any of you have forgotten that,’ she said fiercely. ‘So you can put aside whatever it is you’re doing and look through his Twitter feed and see if there’s anything you recognise.’ A few seconds passed and nobody moved. ‘Now, people.’
Slowly, the room turned its back on her and Zigic gestured her into his office, watching some of the confidence morph into defiance as she walked in. He closed the door behind her, not wanting anyone to overhear this conversation.
‘Why didn’t you run that past me before you did it?’
She looked stunned. ‘Since when did I have to do that?’
‘We discussed Damien Paggett’s accusation and decided there was no merit in it,’ he reminded her. ‘Now you’ve announced to a room full of officers – some of whom you know can’t be trusted to keep their mouths shut – that we’re considering the possibility that Josh Ainsworth is a sexual predator.’ He heard his voice rising, forced himself to bring it back down. ‘Mel, for Christ’s sake, if one of them leaks this to the press …’
‘Someone’s tweeting this stuff at the force’s Twitter account,’ she said, a hand flying out towards the screen in the other room. ‘It’s already in the public domain. It’s been public for three days.’
He rubbed his beard, anticipating the hassle this would bring them from Riggott. The pressure Long Fleet would hand down.
‘If you want to give anyone a bollocking, it should be Weller,’ she said. ‘I told him to stay on top of social. I swear to God I don’t know how he ever made it out of uniform.’
She was right but it was a deflection he wasn’t going to fall for.
He pressed his hands together, feeling like he needed to say this as slowly and calmly as possible, because he knew why she was so agitated and why she was fixating on the accusation against Josh Ainsworth now.
Walton was in her head. All of that emotion couldn’t stay strapped down. Especially not in her. She needed to let it out somewhere and she’d transferred it onto Josh Ainsworth.
‘The Paggetts are lying to protect themselves,’ he said firmly. ‘We know that. It’s been their approach since the first time we spoke to them. And now it looks like they’ve picked up this accusation from Twitter and tried to use it to throw us off their scent.’
She crossed her arms.
‘We have absolutely no reason to believe Josh Ainsworth was abusive to the women in his care,’ he said. ‘Okay? This is just standard online speculation. But at least we know where the Paggetts picked it up from so it was definitely worth digging into.’
Ferreira gave him a quick, tight smile. ‘Great pep
