Pop Goes the Weasel | страница 107

‘The floodgates have opened and now she can’t stop?’ Harwood interrupted.

‘Something like that.’

‘You sound almost… sympathetic towards her?’

‘I am. She wouldn’t be doing this unless she’d been to hell and back, but my real sympathies lie with Eileen Matthews and Jessica Reid and the others. Lyra is a vicious killer who won’t stop until we bring her in.’

‘My thoughts exactly. To that end I’m going to suggest that I take today’s press conference, whilst you get out there and lead the team. Time is of the essence and I want the press and the public to know that our very best people are on the case.’

The was a brief, pregnant pause, before Helen replied:

‘It is customary for the senior investigating officer to handle the press and it’s probably best if I do it. I know all the hacks round here -’

‘I think I can handle a few journalists. I’ve had more experience of this sort of thing than you and it is imperative that it runs smoothly this time. I’ll ask DS Brooks to sit in to answer any specifics if that becomes necessary. I really think you’ll be better used on the ground.’

Helen nodded but could feel the ground shifting beneath her feet once more.

‘It’s your call.’

‘Indeed. Keep me up to speed with any developments.’

‘Ma’am.’

Helen turned and left. As she walked down the corridor back to the investigation room, her blood boiled. Now that they were finally making progress, Helen was being nudged out of the picture. She had seen it before – senior officers who climb high by riding on the coattails of others – and she’d always abhorred it. She had to put her irritation to one side though. They had a killer to catch. But even as she locked her anger away, it fizzled and burned.

Helen had hoped she would be able to work with Harwood. That she would be a pleasant change from Whittaker. But the truth was, Helen deeply disliked Harwood.

And they both knew it.

‘Thanks for staying with me, Tony. I’d have gone crazy on my own.’

It was nearly 10 a.m., but neither Tony nor Melissa had slept. Once they had completed the e-fit, they had been whisked across town in an unmarked car to a safe house in the centre of Southampton. A plain-clothes officer sat in a car out front to ward off any casual callers, whilst Tony and Melissa holed up inside. She had insisted Tony stay and he’d been happy to do so – now that they were making progress he didn’t want to take any chances.

Despite the exhaustion that gripped them both, they were too wired to relax. Tony knew where the ‘emergency’ bottle of whisky was kept, so he’d dug it out and they’d both had a couple to try and take the edge off the day. Slowly the relaxing effect of the alcohol had done its work, reducing the anxiety and adrenalin a little.