“You’re on the right track, I imagine. It’s usually something along those lines, isn’t it.” Burgess pointed at the screen. “All right. Play.”
Shaw started the footage again, but there wasn’t much else to see. The man went out of view, then the screen went blank. “On to the next.” He clicked another icon in the file. “Okay?”
“So far.”
The scene was the other wall filling the screen this time, the man walking towards it. He stopped to peer inside one of the cases.
“Right, here he said, ‘You would have been next on the stage, my pretty, but I can’t come in here again. But I will come back to the zoo.’ Damn creepy, if you ask me, calling them pretty.” Burgess’ back crawled with a thousand imaginary legs, soft legs, scuttling legs. Oh God… “Because they’re not pretty. So.” He cleared his throat. “It seems he intends to return at some point. Stupid—or incredibly bold—if he thinks he can get away with stealing something a second time. Then again, he’s said he won’t revisit that particular room.”
“If he’s feeling invincible…” Shaw nodded at the screen. “Look at him. Going up that rope and into the hatch. Must have some sort of grippers on those leather glove palms or he’d slip. Some kind of military training? As I said, if he’s feeling invincible—because I presume by this point he’s already abducted the woman, seeing as he stole from the zoo around midnight and she died a couple of hours later—he’ll think he can just do whatever the hell he likes if procuring her was as easy as getting the thing appears to have been.”
“He cut things a bit fine, though. Going to the zoo so late. I wonder why he did that? And where was the victim in the meantime? Already stashed away somewhere?” Burgess racked his brain but couldn’t sew any threads together just yet.
The man vanished through the hatch, the rope was pulled up until it disappeared, then the metal grate was put back in place.
Cocky bastard.
“I don’t think we need to see the other files,” he said. “The ones trained on each glass case.”
“You might not think it’s necessary, but I do. As these are enhanced by our software, something might show up that the zoo workers didn’t see. A tattoo or whatever. Sorry.” Shaw leant across. “Look down while it’s on, if you like,” he whispered.
Burgess nodded. Stared at the A4.
Shaw watched the screen. After what must have been a couple of minutes, he said, “Nope. Nothing.” He took the stick out and slid it back into its plastic case. “Come on. Time for a coffee and a chat. Hash this out until it makes sense.”
Burgess rose, thankful it was over, and pulled at his shirt to get some air onto his wet skin. He could do with a shower he felt so gross, but it would have to wait until just before he went to meet Marla at The Pig, which was seeming more and more likely. With no leads, and the rest of the team searching for some, he wouldn’t be required to stay on for overtime until something concrete came in.
“Hey, stop that right there,” Shaw said loudly, pointing at the other two officers.
“What, sir, our footage?” the dark-haired one asked.
“Yes, your footage. Let me take a gander at that for a second.” He walked over to their desk. “Bring it up bigger. That’s it. Now rewind. Yep. Hold it there.” He beckoned Burgess over. “Come and see this. Tell me what you think.”
Burgess joined them, standing behind Denton’s chair. The street appeared the same as it had when he’d first come into the room. “What am I looking at?”
“Nothing yet,” Shaw said. “Okay, hit it.”
The officer did as he’d been told. The street was still empty. Then some bloke strode along, minding his own business, whistling by the look of it. The view of him was side-on.
“Seem familiar? The rucksack? The beard?” Shaw asked.
Euphoria streaked through Burgess. “Yeah, seems familiar all right. It’s our fucking man, isn’t it?”
Chapter Six
“Are you all right?” Gran made him a sandwich in her wonderful kitchen that always smelt of biscuits—and yummy dinners if she had her slow cooker on. It was on now, filled with beef, carrots, onions, and gravy, so she’d said, and later she’d add dumplings and they could sit together at the table and eat it until their tummies got big.
She repeated her question.
Was he all right? If being all right meant he didn’t have to watch out for her, and that he was at Gran’s house instead of at home, then yes, he was.
He nodded.
“Are you sure?”
Gran was good at prodding, but he’d never let on before about what happened when he wasn’t with her, and he wouldn’t let on now. Not any major details anyway. Gran wasn’t allowed to know those. If she found out, The Man would make her have an accident, and accidents weren’t good. If Gran had one, it would mean he hadn’t been a good boy, that he’d done something he shouldn’t, and, so The Man had said, the blame would all be on his ugly-fucker shoulders.
He nodded again.
“It’s just that…just that a friend of mine knows someone who lives in your street, and she said you were seen crying at your bedroom window the other night. Did you get told off, is that it?”
“No, I never get
