‘I do have one new item,’ DC Ansari said. ‘It doesn’t actually take us any further, but it could yet lead to an opening somewhere down the line. Yesterday I took photos of the labels on our victim’s clothing and had Constable Maynard chase up the retailers or manufacturers to see if they were able to narrow the items down to particular batches. My hope is that if we’re able to get that far, we might also be able to trace the purchases themselves. A tough ask, and Maynard was unable to obtain any firm answers as of yesterday evening. However, I looked at the Met’s package of intel to see what they had on items of clothing; to their credit, they’d done the exact same thing. What they got back was a mixture of results, but surprisingly positive in terms of tracking the items down. Some were confirmed as having been purchased by the first three victims. But here’s the truly interesting aspect: each of the items listed as not belonging to any of the known victims was paid for with cash.’
‘That’s good work, Gul,’ Bishop said. ‘So the obvious next question is: where were they bought?’
Ansari smiled. ‘North London. A Matalan in Wood Green.’
Silence reigned for a few seconds as the team took in this new information. Bliss quickly ran through the different permutations before realising the opening this created. He looked across at Ansari. ‘Gul. It seems to me that if the Met were able to identify the store and the cash payments, they were also able to follow through to time and date. Time and date allied to in-store security cameras surely gives us footage of the customer in question.’
Ansari was already nodding. ‘Correct. But this brings us back to the part where I said it takes us no further – yet. The person caught on camera paying for the clothes is a woman. What role she has – if any – is unknown, and so is she. The Met were far too late to trace the cash, so there was no possibility of obtaining prints. The purchases were made almost a year prior to the first murder. The woman could be connected to our killer, or she might even be a victim we’ve yet to discover. But the unidentified piece of clothing found next to Majidah wasn’t purchased at the same time. So, what I’m hoping is that it was bought elsewhere, perhaps even here in Peterborough. If so, it might give us a better lead.’
Bliss huffed in frustration. So close, but no cigar. Ansari had done good work, as had the Met, but while their efforts had forced open another thread for the investigation to follow, it had ultimately unravelled. If they could not identify the woman who purchased the clothing from Matalan, they had no way of tying that loose end off.
Thirty minutes after Bishop had thanked everybody and brought the briefing to a close, Bliss took a call from Superintendent Fletcher. The pleasure of his company was requested, only her actual words were: ‘Get your arse up to my office!’
Every time he entered the third floor, Bliss was reminded of his previous encounters with the upper echelons of the police service. They had not always gone as well as he had liked, but in Marion Fletcher he had found a superintendent who almost always put the job in hand ahead of her personal ambitions. At most places of work, people tended to hate their bosses; that was the natural order of things, and the service was no better and no worse in that respect. But he had come to like and admire the DSI, and was already feeling disappointed that he had clearly upset her again. Enough to have her come into the station on her day off.
Dressed casually in blue jeans and a maroon hooded sweatshirt, Fletcher was staring out of her office window when he entered. In the reflection he saw stern features, and his heart sank a little deeper.
She turned, thumbs hooked into her pockets. ‘I’ve had my opposite number over at Cambridge central on the phone to me, Jimmy,’ she said. ‘Do you have the vaguest notion why?’
He puffed out his lips, but decided a shrug might be too much. ‘Not really, ma’am. Are they looking for a progress report, because I’m pretty sure that went out last night?’
Fletcher regarded him for an uncomfortably long time before replying. ‘Let’s start again, shall we, Sergeant? Assume I’ve asked that same question for the first time. Your response would be…?’
Bliss felt himself slump on the spot. ‘All right. I confess I’ve not yet got around to updating DI Kennedy. As the Americans like to say, “my bad”. Thing is, ma’am, it’s not as if they don’t know what’s going on. Glen Ashton is filling them in on a daily basis, I suspect.’
‘Suspect or know?’
‘Obviously I can’t know for sure. However, you’d have to be a fool not to realise what’s going on. I understand my reporting back to the DI was one of the conditions of us being allowed to run with this case, but as having Ashton thrust upon us was also a part of that deal, you have to assume he’s telling them everything.’
‘So we’re relying on suspecting and assuming, are we? Not good enough, Jimmy. Not good enough by a long way. You and I both know it was the possible link to Drake that swung things in our favour. With that connection looking increasingly unlikely, I don’t know how much longer I can fend them off.’
‘With respect, ma’am, we don’t know how likely or unlikely it is. We have a strong lead to a dark website which might still prove to be owned by Drake’s organisation. And we have the Met’s blessing to continue with their own case. In my opinion, we have more than enough to keep Operation Phoenix running.’
Fletcher gave a resigned sigh. ‘Then it’s a good job I said as
