When the Evil Waits by M Lee (i want to read a book .txt) 📗

simply was never caught. Since the Saville case and the Rochdale grooming scandals, there has been far more awareness of child abuse, but there are still legacy cases we haven’t got to. Look at Manchester City, for example: they had a child molester working as one of their youth coaches in the 1990s. He was only discovered when he was caught in Florida.’

‘Shit.’

‘Or our man has broken the law and was on the Register, but has moved to the area recently and not notified the authorities of a change of address. It’s against the law, but who’s going to follow up? Not the probation service, and we have enough on our plate dealing with day-to-day crime.’

‘I’m beginning to see the problems that Turnbull faced.’

‘And he had a team of thirty detectives to do the work. There’s only three of us, Ridpath.’

‘We can’t think like that, Chrissy. We have a job to do…’

‘And just three days left to do it,’ added Emily.

‘Two days, actually. We have to report back on Saturday to Claire Trent.’

Emily rolled her eyes.

‘What about HOLMES 2, Chrissy?’

‘I rechecked the report. The Liverpool case was the closest to ours in terms of an attack on children. A young boy. Alan McCarthy, abducted on his way to the shops, his body found four hours later about a mile from where he was kidnapped. But the MO was different; he was stabbed and wasn’t sexually molested. Plus the Scousers have a suspect who’s confessed. A man called Lawrence Scully. He has a history of sexual offences against children. And get this, he’s demanding chemical castration.’

‘What?’ asked Emily. ‘I thought we don’t do that any more.’

‘We don’t, but he’s still asking for it.’

‘Could he have done both crimes?’ asked Ridpath.

Chrissy shook her head. ‘He has a cast-iron alibi for the dates in question.’

‘No alibi is “cast iron”.’

‘This one is. He was in jail.’

‘What for?’ Emily cocked her head. ‘Offences against children?’

‘Got it in one.’

‘Jesus.’

‘And there’s more…’

‘Tell me,’ said Ridpath, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Chrissy continued. ‘Scully was found with a knife in his possession. The knife was plastered with…’

‘…Alan McCarthy’s DNA.’ Ridpath sat back and exhaled. This case was becoming too complicated and he only had two more days left before he had to report to Claire Trent.

In that instant, David Carsley’s hands flashed into Ridpath’s mind, the nails bitten and the fingers slightly curled like claws.

Perhaps he should have stayed on medical leave.

Chapter 26

Molly Wright was starting to feel exasperated. This story was going nowhere.

She’d contacted her source in MIT and he could tell her nothing except that a new cop had come back from sick leave and may be working on the case.

‘May be? Haven’t you got anything for me better than a “may be”?’

‘He keeps his cards close to his chest, does DI Ridpath. Turnbull hates his guts but somehow Claire Trent has a soft spot for him. The gossip on the street is the two of them may have had a bit of a fling in the past.’

‘“A bit of a fling”? Which century are you living in? Are they fucking each other?’

‘I don’t know. Ridpath recently lost his wife so…’

‘I remember the case. Wasn’t she shot by some old loony who took her own life?’

‘Yeah, that’s Ridpath.’

Molly Wright thought for a moment. Was there an angle here? Cop whose wife dies shags boss? Or brave cop back at work to solve child killing case? Perhaps both? She filed it in her brain as a possibility for later.

‘Anything else going on with the case?’

‘Not a lot. They seem to be running out of ideas. Turnbull has a bee in his bonnet about the father. Keeps trying to get intel from Scotland.’

‘What intel?’

‘I dunno. He doesn’t let me anywhere near it.’

‘Find out.’

‘I don’t know if I can, I’m not—’

‘Stop whining and find out. There’s a pony in it for you if you get it to me quickly. Enough to keep you in bets for a couple of days at least. But with your luck…’

‘I’m on a losing streak at the moment. It’ll change soon.’

‘That’s what they all say. If you want the money, you’d better get your arse in gear.’

She ended the call before he could ask for any dosh for this phone call. She believed you should always keep your informants lean and mean. In this case, leaner and meaner.

The story was starting to cost her money. She didn’t know how long she could continue to feed this particular dragon. The Ridpath stuff and the search for intel in Scotland sounded interesting, but it might be a long time before either of them bore fruit.

She checked the weather outside her window. It was one of those days that couldn’t make its mind up whether it was the middle of summer or the middle of winter; a grey, remorseful sky, a racy wind and occasional bursts of sunshine lighting up the dreary red brick of the houses opposite.

She dragged herself out of bed and into the toilet, past the empty bottles of Rioja strewn around the floor. Her bladder was fit to bursting.

Maybe she should give it all up and retire to Spain to write the great British novel. At least the plonk would be cheaper and the weather better.

Maybe she should go further south. To Morocco, perhaps, indulge in a downy boy or three.

Maybe.

Maybe.

Maybe.

Was she catching a dose of the maybes from her source?

Maybe.

Chapter 27

‘Right, it’s a big job, so we need to work smart. Last night I went through the case files and the documents Chrissy downloaded for me. This morning, I met Dr Schofield at the mortuary and he took me through the post-mortem results again.’

‘How was that?’ asked Emily.

Ridpath ran his fingers through his hair. ‘Not great. David Carsley was sexually assaulted and strangled. Schofield thinks the killer will strike again.’

‘The same conclusion as our criminal profiler?’

Ridpath nodded. ‘We have to stop him.’ He opened his notebook, checking his action points from last night. ‘From the documents, there was no evidence