by A L Fraine
Kate smiled back at him. “Thanks, I guess.”
“Don’t be nervous. You’ll do just fine,” Nathan said to her with a smile. “You’d better get writing that statement though. If I know Sam, he’ll arrange the conference to start in like, ten minutes or something ridiculous, just to try to get me to step in.”
“Right,” Kate said, sitting down at her computer. A strange determination washed over her as she opened a blank document, and she realised she actually didn’t want Nathan to do it for her. She wanted to do this herself. She felt like she wanted to prove to herself, and to everyone else, that she had the balls to do what was needed.
True to form, Sam arranged the press conference to start as early as he could. Luckily, the setting up of the podium and the microphones seemed to stop him from giving her just ten minutes to prepare.
As it turned out, she had forty minutes to draft her statement, which was more than enough time to get everything ready. She even managed to read the thing through a few times to get it lodged in her brain somewhere.
Getting up, Kate brushed off her jacket with her hand and pulled it back on over her shirt.
“I’ll come with you,” Nathan said, standing up from his desk.
“You don’t have to,” she said, adjusting her clothing and hair.
“I know. But look, if you really want me to do this for you, I will. I don’t mind.”
“Thanks, but no, I’ve said I’ll do this. I want to see it through,” Kate replied, making sure she sounded firm and not nervous, despite how she felt inside.
“Okay, but I’ll be right next to you. Just give me a nudge if you want some help.”
Kate nodded. “Thanks.”
“No problem,” Nathan replied, crossing the room with her. As she walked, she spotted DCI Dean approaching her. He waved her down.
“Skipper,” Kate said in greeting as she stopped just before him.
“DI Mason was a little overzealous putting you up to this,” he said. “We’ll get this changed as I don’t think tha…”
“I’m fine, sir,” Kate cut in. “Sorry to interrupt, but I want to do this. I’m aware of the potential reasons why DI Mason put me up to this, but honestly, I can do this.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
The DCI relaxed onto his heels and gave her an appraising look. “Alright, if you’re sure.”
“I am,” Kate replied.
“She’ll do just fine,” Nathan added, backing her up. The DCI let her go, and the pair walked down towards the front of the building where the press was waiting for her.
“You’ve got your statement ready?” Nathan asked, fussing over her like a protective mother.
“Yeah, I’m ready for them,” she answered him, finding his concern cute.
“Don’t let your guard down. This is the press we’re talking about here. They’ll eat you alive if you give an inch,” he said.
“Speaking from experience?” she asked, genuinely curious.
“I just know what they can be like,” he answered her. “Just stick to the script, don’t be tempted to ad-lib, and you’ll be fine.”
“What about taking questions?” She wasn’t sure on the etiquette of this.
“I’d urge you not to go down that road. That’s when things can get nasty. Ultimately, it’s up to you though, but I think you’d be better off avoiding that altogether.”
Kate nodded, understanding his concern, but she was also well aware of his feelings towards the media and wondered if that was tainting his answer to her question. She guessed she could call an end to the press conference whenever she wanted though, so if things got uncomfortable, she’d just walk out.
They reached the main front entrance and could see the crowd of reporters outside, stood before a small podium that was sprouting microphones from every inch of it.
The butterflies in her stomach really began to flutter as she paused to take a breath, and build up the last bit of courage she could muster.
A man walked over, one of the civilian workers in the building who looked to be waiting for them. “Detective O’Connell?” he inquired.
Kate smiled. “That’s me.”
“Everything’s ready for you out there. The mics are all live, so careful what you say.”
“Okay, thanks,” she said, and approached the entrance, where a couple of officers waited for her, and accompanied her out of the building. They stopped just outside the doors, guarding the entrance and flanking her, ready in case it got a little rough.
She approached the podium with Nathan behind her, hanging back as the media people pressed in towards her. Several of them were already asking questions, but she simply ignored them and placed her prepared statement on the podium.
“Thank you for coming today. I’m Detective O’Connell, one of the officers working on the Donaldson murder case. We’ve made significant progress, and inquiries are ongoing, so you’ll understand that we are unable to discuss the details of the case at this time. However, we do have someone we need to find and speak to, which is the reason for coming out here to speak with you today,” she said.
Her heart was hammering away inside her chest as she spoke, but she concentrated on the words and kept her pace measured, trying not to talk too quickly. As the sentences passed, her nerves began to ease, and she started to settle into the moment.
“The man we’re looking for is Steve Brewster,” she continued, holding up a printed photo of Steve.
“He’s a local man who we believe to be living rough or squatting somewhere. We’re keen to speak with him and to eliminate him from the investigation, but have been unable to locate him so far. If you know where he is, I would urge you not to approach him, and to get in touch with the Surrey Police Service, or Crime Stoppers as soon as you can.”
She looked up from her statement, and a second later, questions filled the air from the gathered reporters. The sheer number and force with which the press threw the questions at her took her by surprise, and she almost stumbled backwards. But she recovered quickly, and after a moment, decided that she would attempt to answer some of them.
Amidst the chaos, she heard someone close to her ask a question she could answer.
“When will the Donaldson’s Estate Agents reopen?”
“That’s a question for them,” Kate replied, bringing the reporters to silence again as she spoke. It was like she held some kind of power over them, and she quite liked the feel of it.
“What of the reports that the death was some kind of satanic sacrifice?” someone called out the second she’d finished answering the previous question.
“I can’t answer that, inquiries are ongoing,” she answered, hoping that her stoic reply would stop them asking probing questions like that.
“Is this related to the disappearance of Mark Summers?” someone else asked. Kate turned to see Chester Longstaff stood nearby, staring at her after asking this latest question. The gathered press went quiet to hear her answer.
“There’s nothing to suggest the two are linked,” she answered, and was then unsure if she’d said the right thing.
“How long have you been a serving, Detective?” someone else called out.
“What can you tell us about Jordan’s affair with Naomi Sawyer?” someone else added.
Kate took half a step back, surprised that these details had leaked to the press already, and unsure how to answer. Nathan stepped up beside her. “Thank you, no more questions,” Nathan said into the mics, and took Kate by the arm, guiding her away from the podium.
She didn’t resist, and with a smile to the assembled press, turned to walk back inside.
“What’s it like working with a disgraced detective?” It was the distinctive voice of Chester Longstaff. Kate looked back and caught Chester’s knowing smile as he waited for her answer, but he’d never get it. She walked back into the building and let out a long sigh.
“Well, that felt like a car crash and a half,” Kate com
mented.
“Rubbish. You did well,” Nathan reassured her. “You handled yourself professionally, and I think you represented the force well out there.”
“But I froze at the end.”
“It probably felt worse than it really was. Trust me, you did well. I think the skipper will be happy with that.”
“Okay, if you say so,” she answered, not quite believing him, but appreciating his support for what she felt was an amateurish performance. They headed back upstairs and to the main room where there was a small crowd gathered around one of the TVs. As she walked back into the office, a cheer went up from the team, peppered with applause.
Kate blushed and paused as she smiled at the other officers.
She noticed Nathan give her a smile and walk off as several others approached her, including DCI Dean.
“Well done, congratulations. You did well out there,” he said as Claire, Rachel, and a couple other officers stepped up to her.
“That was amazing,” Rachel added.
“I think that deserves a celebratory cake tomorrow,” Claire added, to Kate’s amusement. Was everything about baking and cakes with her?
“You looked good out there, O’Connell,” Sam Mason added, walking over. “We should put you in front of the camera more often.”
Kate wasn’t sure if she should be offended by the comment or not, as it sounded a little sexist, but she erred on the side of caution and merely smiled at DI Mason.
“Thanks,” she said to everyone, feeling embarrassed by the attention.
“So, which conspiracy is this case all about then, hey?” another female detective asked.
Kate looked over, recognising DC Octavia Ash, another of the younger detectives on the team, and another with something of a grudge against Nathan.
Kate ignored the comment.
“Seriously, good work. Well done. Now, back to work, all of you,” the DCI said, taking charge of the situation. Kate eyed Octavia who walked back towards her desk beside Sam, the pair of them joking to each other as they went.
“While you’re partnering with me, you’ll never be totally accepted by them,” Nathan said as she approached her desk.
“Is that right?” she commented, returning to her seat, feeling somewhat defiant. She’d seen Nathan’s interest in conspiracy, and she had to admit it was a little creepy, but there was something about his conviction in it. There was also something about the nature of this murder investigation that gave her pause and made her wonder just how real some of these theories of Nathan’s were. Might some of them have links to the truth or a version of it?
Cults were real, after all. There were endless examples of groups of people doing some incredibly horrific things, including killing themselves in the name of some god or other. Not to mention killing other people.
All it took was one charismatic leader to whip his followers into a frenzy and make them believe what he was saying. So, just how wrong was Nathan about some of these ideas?
More importantly, how did they relate to this case?
The rest of the afternoon was taken up with paperwork until Kate could finally head home.
She walked into her small apartment in north Leatherhead and collapsed onto her sofa, feeling utterly shattered and drained from the day's events, not least of which being the press conference.
She shook her head as she thought back through those few minutes, and couldn’t quite believe she’d done it. If someone had told her she’d be holding a press conference before the end of the week, she’d have told them they were crazy, and yet, here she was.
With a sigh she reached out, picked up the remote for the TV, and turned on the news. Right away, her face filled the screen as the local evening news reported on her press conference.
She eyed her appearance with a critical eye, deciding she looked tired and in need of a good night’s rest, while also wondering if she really sounded like that.
With a grunt, she heaved herself out of the depths of her sofa and to the kitchen.
She needed something to eat.
CHAPTER 21
He stood a short distance away from the bank of monitors watching the screen, admiring the young detective. She’d had a busy day today, he thought as he watched her every move.
The press conference seemed to have gone well for her. She seemed tired but confident as she’d asked for help in finding the killer.
The man smiled to himself. Find him? Heh. They’d never find him in time. Not before he’d completed his masterwork anyway. He’d been too careful. Covered his tracks too well, giving them almost nothing to go on.
He was too good for them, and with the backing of his superiors, there really was little they could do. He felt sure of that.
He stood there and stared at the monitor a little longer, enjoying watching the young detective, and wondering if he might need to deal with her as well sometime.
He’d enjoy adding her to the list of people who’d made the ultimate sacrifice for him, helping him achieve his goals and the goals of the organisation.
But he had much more to do tonight and reluctantly turned away from the monitors to head for another room, pulling on his balaclava as he went.
In the middle of the next room, in the centre of the dirty floor, tied to the blood-stained bed, lay his ultimate and final victim. He’d spent weeks preparing him for this last moment, this final epiphany that he felt sure would propel him up to where he wanted to be.
The naked man lay on the sheets, covered in blood. Some of it was still fresh from the day’s earlier activities, while other bits were weeks old, and were crumbling off his raw skin.
His captive looked up at him with wild, fear-filled eyes and flinched away as he drew near.
“Mark. Don’t be afraid. The time is almost upon us,” he said as he pulled out his ceremonial knife with its silver handle, encrusted with gleaming rubies.
“I have other work tonight, but before I do that, we need to get you ready for the final stage of this process.”
Mark didn’t answer him, he just looked up at his concealed face in mute horror, perhaps unable to say anything.
“You know what, I think we’ve come to know one another quite well over these past few weeks, you and I. So here, let’s have no more secrets from each other,” he said, and pulled off his balaclava, revealing the face beneath.
Mark looked shocked for a moment, and then, as the initial surprise drained away, his expression changed. Some kind of dawning realisation or recognition washed over Mark as he looked up.
“I… I know you…” Mark said, and the man smiled.
“Yes, you do,” the man answered, and raised the knife into view. “Shall we get to know one another a little better?”
CHAPTER 22
Kate sat straight up in bed as her phone rang loudly from less than a metre away.
“Wha?” she gasped as she tried to figure out what on earth was going on. Was it her alarm? she wondered, reaching for her phone. She stared at the screen in confusion for a second before realising someone was calling her.
No, not someone. Nathan. Nathan was calling her.
She tapped answer and put the phone to her ear. “Hello?”
“Good, you’re up,” he said.
“No thanks to you,” she grumbled. “What time is it?”
“Nearly five in the morning.”
“So, four something or other… ugh. What is it?”
“There’s been another murder.”
Kate blinked. “What?” she asked, the shock of the statement banishing her grogginess in a second.
“Get up, I’m heading to yours. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. I’ll fill you in on the way.” Nathan ended the call, and for a second, Kate could only stare at her phone, wondering what was going on. She looked over at her clock to check the time and groaned at the number that glowed brightly on the screen.
“Aaaah, crap,” she muttered swinging her legs over the side of the bed. Fifteen minutes, she tho
ught. That wasn’t long, but she felt confident she could shower, dress, and be ready in that time.
In the end, she was downstairs, pulling her still-wet hair up into a ponytail and waiting for Nathan with less than a minute to spare. She wished she’d had time to grab some breakfast, but figured she’d find something later.
Maybe Claire would bring some treats again today that she could indulge in.
At fifteen minutes and thirty-eight seconds, Nathan pulled up outside her building and she walked out to meet him. The air was still cool, but the sky was already beginning to lighten as dawn approached.
“Morning,” Kate said, climbing into the passenger seat. “This is an ungodly hour to be going to work.”
“Yeah, sorry about that. I’ll put out a press release asking all criminals to only commit a crime during business hours. How’s that?”
“That would be a start,” she replied. “So, where are we heading?”
“Guildford. From what I’ve heard, Naomi Sawyer has been found dead.”
“Naomi? Shit. Do you think it’s our guy? The one who killed Jordan?”
“Don’t know. I’ve not gotten any details through. I guess we’ll find out more when we get there.”
Kate nodded, thinking about their meeting with Naomi yesterday. She’d been a little nervous about the interview, but she’d still been full of life. She wondered what this would mean for their case if it was the same killer.
If nothing else, it was undoubtedly suspicious timing. That alone made it very likely that Naomi and Jordan’s killers were one and the same.
She frowned, wondering what the pattern was, but she had too little to go on for the time being. They needed to get to the scene of the crime and have a look.
Traffic was light and they had no problem driving into town and making their way to Naomi’s apartment, which was in a purpose-built development of flats on a residential road. The street was closed off with police cars everywhere, their blue lights flashing. Some of the local residents stood nearby, watching the events, and no doubt wondering what was going on.
They were shown through the police cordon before Nathan parked up. Kate climbed out and joined him as they made their way towards the building.
