DI Sean Corrigan Crime Series: 6-Book Collection: Cold Killing, Redemption of the Dead, The Keeper, The Network, The Toy Taker and The Jackdaw. Luke Delaney

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СКАЧАТЬ Possibly sexual attacks or attacks that could have some sexual overtones. Anything like that. Can you help?’

      ‘We can work with that. As for the drunken queer-bashing stuff, we wouldn’t have that sort of attack on our records anyway. Not distinct enough.’

      DC Williams walked over to a large grey cabinet in a corner of the office. He talked as he thumbed through the files within. ‘Some of our records go back fifty years or so. The really sensitive ones. Preferred methods of terrorists, professional hit men, that sort of thing. But mostly our records refer to sex offenders, paedophiles. People most likely to re-offend. We don’t have too many murderers. Most are such dull affairs, one-off acts of stupidity. But you would already know that.’

      Sally was relieved. She didn’t fancy spending the entire day reading through ancient files in the cramped office.

      ‘We’ve only got a few hundred on record,’ Williams added, grinning. Sally slumped. ‘Shouldn’t take too long if we both look through them.’

      He pulled out as many files as he could manage and carried them to Sally’s desk. ‘That’s the last decade of interesting murders of homosexuals. Unfortunately, most of our records haven’t been transferred on to the computer system yet, so if you have a look at this little lot, I’ll see what we have got on our computerised records.’ He began to whistle as he tapped away on the terminal’s keyboard.

      Sally took off her jacket and pushed all the files to one side of the desk. She picked the first one at random and began to read.

      Hellier knew they were there. He could sense their presence. He couldn’t see them from his study, but it made no difference. They were there. They were good. Not clumsy. Not impatient. He wondered how many would be on the surveillance team. They called the officers on motorbikes Solos. Pathetic police jargon. Still, he had a problem. Things would get difficult if he was followed everywhere by these flat-footed fools. DI Corrigan was responsible, no doubt. Christ he was an irritating fucker. How best to deal with DI Corrigan?

      Time to make another phone call. Maybe he would go for a run a little later, weaving through the Sunday crowds in Upper Street’s antique market before jumping on and off a few buses and underground trains, laughing at the police as they struggled and ultimately failed to keep up with him.

      He spoke to the police he couldn’t see.

      ‘I hope you’re prepared for a long day, fuckers. You’ll have to improve your play, if you want to win the prize.’

      Sally carefully read the first dozen files. It was clear why these particular murders had been deemed unique enough for Method Index’s files of infamy. Some were almost funny they were so bizarre, but most were just horrific.

      Her thoughts began to drift to the victims. Had they had any idea of what was going to happen to them? Had they been scared, confused or even angry once they realized death was upon them? And why had they been selected? What had drawn their killers to them? The way they looked, moved or spoke? Or was it pure bad luck? The wrong place at the wrong time? Probably a little of each.

      She’d been reading for over three hours. A couple of times something pricked her attention, but each time her interest faded away as she uncovered details inconsistent with what she was looking for. DC Williams’s voice broke her concentration.

      ‘DS Jones …’

      ‘What is it?’ Sally asked.

      ‘I think you should take a look at this. I may have found something.’

      Sean had joined up with Donnelly and Zukov. The three men sat quietly in the unmarked Mondeo. Sean sat in the back staring out of the window, constantly re-evaluating the evidence, searching for anything he could have overlooked. The radio crackled into life with the voices of the surveillance team. ‘Target one still stationary in blue.’

      ‘Lima Two breaking for a natural.’

      ‘Received, Lima Two.’

      ‘Lima Three will cover.’

      ‘Received, Lima Three.’

      Donnelly spoke for them all. ‘If Hellier moves off, I hope they stop chattering in that language of theirs, because I for one can’t understand a bloody word they’re saying.’

      Sean’s mobile rang. He answered it quickly. ‘DI Corrigan.’

      ‘Guv’nor? Sally here.’

      Sean sensed an increased degree of excitement in her voice. ‘You sound like you have something for me.’

      ‘I think I might have.’

      Sean checked his watch. It was almost lunchtime. He was hoping to spend most of the day following Hellier. He felt as if the longer he was close to the man, the more he could think like him. ‘Can it wait till morning?’

      ‘I suppose so,’ Sally answered.

      It was no good though and he knew it. If he didn’t find out what Sally had, he would never rest. ‘Can you give it to me down the phone?’

      ‘Sorry, sir. I’m driving and I need to show you this file. You’ll want to see it.’

      ‘Okay,’ he conceded. ‘Dave and I will meet you back at Peckham as soon as, travelling time from Islington.’

      ‘I’ll be there.’

      ‘Developments?’ Donnelly asked over his shoulder.

      ‘Possibly. We need to get back to the office and meet Sally. The surveillance boys can handle this on their own.’

      Their car pulled into the heavy North London traffic and slipped away seemingly unnoticed.

      Sean leaned against the window frame. Sally sat on a standard-issue police station chair, wooden and rickety. Donnelly also chose to stand.

      Sally rested a cardboard folder in her lap. She reminded Sean of a schoolteacher about to read a story. ‘I dug this out of Method Index’s files earlier today,’ she told them. ‘We entered the details of our murder into the system, looking for any similar crimes or methods. Eventually it threw up this character.’

      Sally opened the folder and pulled out a criminal records file. ‘This is for a guy called Stefan Korsakov.’ She passed the printout to Sean, who quickly scanned the list of convictions. It didn’t take long.

      ‘Why? The man’s only got one conviction. For fraud. And that was almost ten years ago.’ Sean was puzzled. He shook his head and passed the printout to Donnelly.

      Sally continued: ‘Convictions yes, but Method Index don’t only go on convictions. Here –’ Sally pulled a thick bunch of papers from the folder. Sean recognized the old-style forms. ‘Stefan Korsakov was accused of raping a seventeen-year-old boy back in 1996. The victim had a slight learning difficulty. Nothing serious apparently, but it made him a little naive.

      ‘Korsakov approached the boy while he was riding his bike around Richmond Park. He befriended him, gave him a can of beer laced with a stronger alcohol, then dragged him into a secluded area of the park, tied him up, gagged him and sexually abused him in just about every way possible, climaxing with the actual rape.

      ‘But СКАЧАТЬ