Bliss began to feel the initial stirrings of irritation. He measured his tone when he next spoke, but added some flint to it. ‘Sandra, I’m not your paid source. You and I have an arrangement. We help each other out as and when it suits. This is a rapidly developing case, and I haven’t had much time to think about your feelings – or your job, for that matter. I called to update you, and would have done so had you answered. Don’t make more of this than it already is.’
He could almost see her look of fury flare up and diminish as she realised he was right. His mind was in overdrive and his thoughts turned to what she hadn’t yet mentioned.
‘This scoop you’re angry about,’ he said. ‘It mentions a potential serial killer, yes? Three murders in London, and the same killer responsible for our victim over at the chalk pits. Is that as far as the story goes?’
‘Yes. Why? Are you saying there’s more to it?’
He could tell by what had not been said so far that only a part of the story had been unearthed – so the leak was probably out of Cambridge, possibly the Met. This was a version missing salient new facts. ‘Sandra, if I tell you something off the record and assure you that I promise to come to you with the full story the moment we break the case, will that pacify you?’
‘I suppose it depends on what you tell me.’
Bliss stiffened. ‘Don’t push it. You want it or not? It makes no difference to me, because I’m not asking for your help this time.’
‘But you did. You have. You asked me about Lewis Drake and this dark web business he might be running.’
‘Yeah, well, we’re beyond that, don’t you think?’
After a moment she said, ‘I’m sorry. I was angry. I still am. But if you didn’t know, then you didn’t know.’
‘Good. And I swear I didn’t. But here’s the thing the leak wouldn’t have mentioned, Sandra: our killer has already taken his next victim.’
Thirty-Eight
The first thing Bliss did when he reached HQ was to pull Bishop to one side for a confidential chat. Standing inside his old office once again felt peculiar; he was now the outsider occupying another man’s territory. Yet one glance at the wall put his mind at ease and pinned a smile upon his face.
‘You rescued it from what should have been its final resting place, then?’ he said.
DS Bishop followed his gaze. Nodded. ‘That Pissed-ometer is part of the furniture in this office, Jimmy. It’s a bit more battered than it was before, but the wall looked too bare without it.’
The cardboard arrow indicated a mood part way between ‘steaming’ and ‘furious’, but for once it was out of kilter with how Bliss truly felt. Bishop must have guessed his train of thought.
‘It only went back up first thing this morning,’ he explained. ‘Nobody has had time to adjust it yet.’
Bliss regarded him closely. ‘Do you know who does it?’
Bishop gave him a quizzical look. ‘You mean you don’t?’
‘No. Not a clue.’
‘Good. Let’s keep it that way. So, what did you want with me?’
‘First of all, let me say I don’t want to take the piss; I won’t use my previous rank and our relative positions to take advantage. That said, I would like an extended lunch break today. I have a personal issue to take care of. I’m thinking of getting away by midday, back again by one-thirty, perhaps two o’clock.’
Bishop’s frown formed a fearsome collection of lines and bulges on his forehead. ‘Jimmy, your temporary demotion hasn’t made you a different person. Why would you ever imagine I’d think you were pulling a fast one? I know you. If you need the time, take it.’
‘Thanks. If something breaks, the case is still my priority. I’ll drop my plans, you know that.’
‘Of course. It didn’t need to be said. Please, do what you have to do. If I see your name on the whiteboard, I’ll know you’re here. If I don’t, I’ll call you if something pops.’
Bliss was grateful to him. He’d expected nothing less, but he’d owed Bishop the courtesy.
Moments later, with the team gathered together, they knuckled down to the briefing. It was DCI Warburton who stood front and centre on this occasion. She felt it was time to reaffirm her position as SIO, to make it clear how the investigation was being perceived from the top, and to also discuss the news leak.
‘I can’t begin to tell you how angry I am that it’s come to this,’ she said, both angular cheeks inflamed. ‘I’m not going to pretend that none of us consider journalists to be valuable sources of intelligence – nor to imagine that the currency used to obtain access is anything other than case information. But I hope everybody in this room agrees this new leak is a step too far. The one chink of light is that the degree of information released suggests the source is not a member of this unit. If this daily rag had been aware of our interest in Abbi Turner’s disappearance in connection with Phoenix, I have no doubt they would have released those details at the same time. So the leak almost certainly came from somebody close enough to have known about the jump to serial killer status, yet sufficiently distanced to be unaware of our probable abduction. Believe me when I tell you I am personally going to hunt this source down and plug the leak with my boot.’
‘What difference do you think it will make to the case?’ Chandler asked. ‘Are we under greater pressure because of it?’
Warburton nodded. ‘Superintendent Fletcher is – as am I. My hope is that’s where it ends. I’m certainly not going to add to your burden. You run the case as if this news is
