The papers had gone out a couple of hours ago. Clearly word was spreading – her mobile phone hadn’t stopped ringing and her Twitter feed was going ballistic. Nothing sells papers like a serial killer and Emilia intended to make the most of it. The pieces she’d written last year on Marianne’s killing spree had gained her a reputation locally, but because of Grace’s obstruction on that case she had got to the story too late. She wouldn’t make the same mistake again.
Emilia swallowed her guilty hope that the killer would not be caught too quickly. She knew it was wrong to think like that, but truth be told she enjoyed the fact that Grace was being given the runaround, that the killer appeared to strike at will without leaving a trace, and, besides, who honestly felt sympathy for the victims? They were typical men – deceitful, mendacious, driven by base desires. There were already signs in the messages posted on the paper’s forum and on Twitter that the wider public felt that these men had got what was coming to them. For centuries prostitutes had been the unheralded victims of male violence, was it such a bad thing that the boot was now on the other foot? ‘Go, girl,’ Emilia said to herself, suppressing a smile.
There was only one blot on the landscape and that was Emilia’s failure to interview Christopher Reid’s widow, Jessica. She had rung and visited often, but the Family Liaison officer knew Emilia’s tactics well and had seen her off. She had subsequently returned, slipping a financial offer through the door, with a note explaining how the money could be put to good use in the difficult months ahead and offering sympathetic coverage in the paper, but as yet there had been no response and Emilia doubted there would be. Grace would keep her away from public view whilst the killer was at large. Still, Emilia had overcome bigger challenges than this before and she would just have to be inventive. There was more than one way to skin a cat.
The office was thinning out now. There was little point in Emilia hanging about – the praise and adulation she’d received earlier had died down as her colleagues departed for home. Grabbing her bag and coat, Emilia headed to the lifts. There was a new bar on the waterfront that she’d been meaning to check out for a while and now seemed the perfect time to do just that.
She had just left the office when her mobile rang. It was one of her tame PCs – he’d been a source of valuable intel for several months now. As she listened to his breathless report, a broad smile spread across Emilia’s face. Another murder and this time it involved a familiar face: DC Charlie Brooks. Turning on her heel, Emilia marched straight back into the office.
