Death Call (24 page)

Chapter 25

DCI Jones called Carroll and Grant into his office once the press conference had concluded. It appeared that someone had heard the eight o’clock news bulletin on Capital Radio and had reported back to Jones. Jones, in turn, had listened to the nine o’clock bulletin, and then called for his two investigating officers. Whatever it was they were playing at, he thought, he’d best get to the bottom of it.

Grant sighed heavily on hearing that Jones wanted a word again. He knew what it was about instantly, and decided to have no part in it. Carroll had dropped himself in it this time, and Grant decided that he wasn’t going to take any hassle for his partner’s mistake. Carroll knew what was coming, and was prepared.

‘What in the name of God did you think you were doing talking to that reporter, Dan? Have you lost your mind? We’ve been getting all sorts of crank calls on the hotline and it’s only just set up! You’ve caused a nation-wide panic!’ DCI Jones blared.

‘Well, that’s not quite true, sir. You see, the way I see it...’

‘The way you see it has nothing to do with anything. Why in the name of God did you think we were having a press conference? I sat through a two hour meeting with the Divisional Commander and all of his cronies earlier this evening and it was decided what information we would give out. You had no right whatsoever shouting your mouth off like that. You could’ve put peoples’ lives in danger! The last thing we need right now is half of the bloody country in a state of panic looking at their neighbours like they’re killers. There must be thousands of Colin Nash look-alikes in England. You’ve opened a can of worms, Carroll, and it won’t be forgotten this time,’ Jones said, slapping his hand down on the desk in front of him.

‘As I was saying, the only reason I gave out the information was because we thought it might speed up the process a little bit. If there are more people out there looking, then we stand a better chance of finding the guy, you know?’ Carroll said with an air of exasperation.

‘I don’t care what you think. Your job is to do like you’re told, and to get on with your job. You’ve been told more than once to keep your mouth shut on this case and what do you do? You go and shout your mouth off. What was it this time, a pretty young reporter with big tits or something?’ Jones said sarcastically, unaware that he’d hit the nail on the head. ‘Well, I’m sick of it. If you pull another stroke like that you’re off the case – do I make myself clear?’

‘Sir,’ Carroll interjected, ‘we’ve already received calls on the hotline, and there’s been two sightings of the guy in the same area – so it must’ve worked!’

‘Wheeler and Thompson have gone out to check up on the sightings. It’s highly unlikely that it’s our man, but we have to check everything now....’ Jones said.

‘Well, at least the public know what they’re looking for, sir,’ Grant said with a frown.

‘The photo you issued should have him spotted and cornered in no time, sir. You did a great job at the press conference,’ Carroll said, hoping that Jones would cool off a little.

‘Get out of this office and get back to work. See if Wheeler and Thompson have had any luck on these sightings – and stay away from the press!’

Carroll withdrew, followed by his partner. A quick call to Wheeler or Thompson’s mobile phone and they would be up to speed on what was happening.

Wheeler answered Thompson’s phone, as Thompson was otherwise occupied.

‘DC Wheeler, who’s that?’

‘It’s Grant. What’s the story on those sightings? Any luck?’

‘Well, the first report was a sighting in King Cross – the call was made from a phone box in the station. The second call sounded a bit more hopeful. A hooker down York Way claims that the guy attacked her about two hours ago, and said that he was driving a blue BMW. The description fits perfectly, but she didn’t say anything about a knife....’ Wheeler said.

‘Where are you now?’

‘We’re on York Way. Thompson’s still having a word with the hooker. Nash may still be around.’

‘Well, give us a bell if anything turns up, okay?’

‘Sure thing,’ Wheeler said, switching off his phone.

‘Looks like he’s still hungry, Dan – Wheeler said they’ve been talking to another hooker down at the Cross who claims to have been attacked by Nash.’

‘Maybe we should get down there and have a look for ourselves....’ Carroll said, eager to get out of the office.

‘Yeah, we can question that hooker again, see if the lads missed out on anything. If Nash attacked one of the girls in the last two hours he must be still out there....’

‘I’ll have another word with Jones and get the uniforms to keep their eyes open. If he’s still around, we’ll find him,’ Grant said.

Wherever Colin Nash now was, he was painfully aware that the cops had identified him, and that it was no longer safe back at his flat. And if they knew where he lived, they knew where he worked, and what sort of car he was driving. The obvious thing to do was to ditch the car, which is exactly what he had done having heard the eight o’clock news.

PC Tommy Barker radioed in at nine forty five claiming to have located the suspect’s vehicle. The registration was checked and the identity of the car was confirmed in a matter of minutes. The car was found in the parking bay of a block of flats on Pentonville Road, just up from King’s Cross. Carroll and Grant were there within ten minutes.

It was Nash’s hackney cab all right, but there was no sign of Nash anywhere in the vicinity. PC Barker and two of his colleagues were sent around the flats in search of anyone who might have seen something. Nothing turned up.

Carroll opened the car door slowly and looked inside. It smelled of sweat and stale semen. It was a little dusty, but there was no sign of any blood, and there were no obvious weapons present. There was little to be done with the car for now. In the morning, the forensics boys would give it a good going over, so all that was left to be done was to wait for the tow truck, and Carroll wasn’t in the mood for waiting.

‘Let’s get down to the Cross and catch up with Wheeler and Thompson. They may have something for us....’

‘Maybe we should check with base to see if there are any stolen BMWs on the loose tonight. After all, Wheeler said that the guy who attacked the hooker was driving one, didn’t he? And Nash has dumped his car....’ Grant said.

‘Good thinking, Tonto,’ Carroll said, lifting the handset and calling back to base.

Within a minute they were told that a blue BMW had gone missing from Grays Inn Road at eight fifteen that evening. Wherever Colin Nash now was, he was driving a stolen BMW, the registration number of which they now had. Carroll informed base that the car was being driven by their suspect, and asked the base controller to inform all units that the driver was armed and dangerous.

By the time that Carroll and Grant arrived in York Way, Wheeler and Thompson had finished with the hooker. They were parked by the side of the road having a coffee and a pastry. Carroll pulled up behind them and got out of the car.

‘Which one is it?’ Carroll inquired, tapping on Wheeler’s window.

Wheeler wound down the window and spoke slowly, with a mouth full of pastry, having difficulty getting his tongue around the word ‘road’.

‘She’s just up the woad, Dan. It’s the one with the green jacket and white stilettos. Her name’s Lucy, she said,’ Wheeler managed to say before having a sip of coffee in an attempt to wash out his mouth.

‘So, she gave an accurate description of Nash?’ Carroll asked.

‘Yeah, it sounded like him, anyway....’ Thompson said from the passenger seat. He too was stuffing his face.

‘You showed her the picture?’

‘We don’t have a copy of it – it hadn’t been given out when we left the station....’ Thompson explained.

‘It’s not a definite identification then, is it?’ Carroll stated, scratching his ear-lobe as if irritated.

‘The description matches what we were given by forensics, but she hasn’t seen the photo yet,’ Wheeler admitted.

‘Well, I suppose I’d better give her a look at it,’ Carroll said, removing a copy of the photo from his jacket pocket and strolling over to where the hookers stood lined up on the street.

There were about six in all. Each one wearing a little less than the next, each looking a little more worn out and desperate for a fix of some kind. Eileen, the Irish hooker, was there, and she called Carroll over brazenly.

‘All right, Detective Carroll? Any luck with that mad-man yet?’

‘No, Eileen, but we’re doing our best....’ Carroll replied with a sympathetic smile.

‘Any chance of a fiver? My feet are frozen standing here and I could murder a coffee. Business has been slow tonight, you know....’ Eileen pleaded, aware that Carroll was something of a soft-touch.

‘Here’s a couple of quid – don’t tell the other girls I gave it to you. Listen, did you see Lucy have any hassle earlier on?’

‘Yeah, it looked like the same creep who had a go at me last week. He wanted me again, but I wouldn’t get into the car.’

‘Wise move, Eileen. But it was definitely him?’ Carroll asked.

‘Yeah, it was him all right.’

Carroll showed the photo of Colin Nash to Eileen and asked her once more.

‘Now, you’re sure it was this man who attacked you?’

‘Yeah, that’s the bastard all right,’ Eileen said, wiping her nose. ‘The fuckin’ prick could’ve killed me, couldn’t he?

‘Yeah, you were very lucky, Eileen. I’m going to have a word with Lucy – why don’t you get yourself off the streets for the night. I hear that uniforms are doing a general pick up down here soon, so it’ll spare you some hassle....’

‘Thanks for that, I don’t fancy having to pay another bloody fine....’

Carroll approached Lucy with the photo in his hand and introduced himself in an official manner.

‘I’m Detective Sergeant Carroll, you were speaking with my colleagues earlier on. I want you to have a look at this photo, just so we can confirm that the guy who attacked you is the one we have in mind, okay?’

Lucy was more or less out of it on something or another, and just dozily nodded her head at everything that Carroll had said. When he showed her the photo, Lucy’s eyes bulged with anger.

‘That’s the prick who attacked me. Have you got him?’

‘We’re working on that right now. You said he was driving a blue BMW, yes?’

‘Yeah, a flashy looking thing, it was....’

‘Did the man have any sort of a weapon with him?’ Carroll asked.

‘I’ve already gone through all of this with the other guys....’

‘What did he use to threaten you?’

‘Nothing, really, he just belted me across the face and said he cut my throat if I didn’t do like he asked....’

‘He said he’d cut your throat? But you said he didn’t have a weapon?’

‘He had something under his jacket, but I didn’t actually see it. Look, I’ve told your guys all of this already. I’m not hurt and I don’t want to press charges, okay?’ Lucy said, moving nervously from foot to foot.

‘Right, thanks for your help, Lucy. We’ll be in touch if there’s anything else you can do for us....’

Carroll walked back towards the car, just wondering how stupid Wheeler and Thompson really were. Lucy obviously thought that she’d been asked if she saw a weapon, but she hadn’t. She’d just known it was there. And that was enough to make her compliant.