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

officer even if the man was an arsehole. ‘It doesn’t take a detective to work it out.’

She frowned. ‘Nothing else?’

He shook his head.

‘Right, well I would steer clear of him for a while.’

‘I intend to. Listen, boss, I’d like to go to Liverpool today if that’s OK with you?’

‘Liverpool?’

‘HOLMES flagged up a link to the murder of a young boy there six weeks ago.’

She frowned again. ‘I remember, Turnbull checked it out. The MO was completely different – the boy in Liverpool was stabbed – plus the Scousers already arrested somebody.’

‘I want to check it out. I can’t believe there are two separate child-killers operating less than thirty-five miles apart, at the same time, both dumping their bodies in a park.’

‘The Liverpool victim was dumped in a park?’

Ridpath nodded. ‘The body wasn’t posed like David Carsley, though.’

‘Another difference?’

‘I know, but I still think it needs to be checked out.’

‘I was going to ask you to supervise the Situation Room, co-ordinate any new info that comes in. You have a knack for making links when they are not obvious.’

‘Emily or Chrissy could do the job just as well, boss, probably better. I still want to go to Liverpool.’

‘Very well, but I want to see you back here before six for this evening’s meeting. I’m sure it’s like Peter Sutcliffe; we have the answer somewhere in our files, we just haven’t made the links yet.’

Ridpath stood up. ‘I’d better get going.’

‘You’re sure you don’t want to tell me anything about Paul Turnbull?’

‘Quite sure, boss.’ He placed his middle finger on top of his index finger. ‘Me and Paul, best mates.’

Claire Trent sighed, returning her gaze to the cost sheets spread out on her table. ‘Let me know if you find out anything in Liverpool, Ridpath. Remember, no surprises, OK?’

‘Last thing I’d ever do, boss, is surprise you.’

‘Unfortunately, you have form, Ridpath. Heed this warning. No. More. Surprises.’ She enunciated each word slowly and distinctly.

Claire Trent was the second person who had given him a warning in the last five minutes.

He wondered if the universe was trying to tell him something.

Chapter 78

Ridpath arrived in Liverpool just over an hour after he left Claire Trent, parking in front of a dour brown brick building on the waterfront beside the docks. As ever in Liverpool, despite it being summer, a bracing breeze was racing in from the Irish Sea across the city. Ridpath pulled his jacket around him and ran from the car park to the building.

After going through the usual Covid-19 formalities he was taken up to the third floor and placed in a meeting room. The furniture was the same MDF specials found in any police station in any district of England. He felt immediately at home.

‘I’m DI Fitzgerald, but most people call me Fitz.’ The detective stuck out his hand and immediately retracted it to touch elbows. ‘How the world has changed in only six months, hey.’ He had a broad Liverpool accent, warm and friendly, so different from the Manchester whine, with the ‘th’ becoming a heavy ‘d’.

‘What do you mean? Two coppers from Liverpool and Manchester actually meeting and trying to shake hands?’

‘Yeah, that as well. You’re DI Ridpath?’

‘That’s me,’ he said, handing over his card.

‘Major Investigation Team? We have Matrix units here.’ The irony was heavier than the accent.

‘Same job, different words.’

‘Tell me about it. The job never changes; we collect evidence, arrest the bad guys, and sit back while the courts screw up. Next year, there’ll be new buzzwords to learn.’

Ridpath liked him, a man after his own heart and one who didn’t waste time on small talk.

‘You’re here about the McCarthy murder?’

‘A young boy found in…’ Ridpath rechecked his notes, ‘…Festival Gardens. Where is that?’

‘Along the river, south of here. The lad, Alan McCarthy, was found on 18 June at four p.m., stabbed twice through the heart. We think he’d been abducted about three hours before.’

‘How?’

‘His mum sent him out for some sweets from the local shop just before one o’clock. When he didn’t return after an hour, she went out looking for him, checking with the other local kids. Nobody had seen him. They went frantic looking for him and reported his disappearance to us, at the same time as one of our patrols had been alerted there was a body in Festival Gardens.’

The coincidence of the timing set off alarm bells in Ridpath’s head. Was this an opportunistic abduction or was it more planned? Did the murderer stalk the victims or was he acting on impulse?

He dismissed the thought for a moment and asked, ‘How old was he?’

‘Seven.’

Ridpath stared out of the window at the dock buildings beside the Mersey. They had once been trading with the world and were now tourist traps and high-end apartments for footballers.

‘Why are you so interested in this case? We already found our perp. He’s on remand in Walton.’

Ridpath tilted his head. ‘The name came up on HOLMES…’

Fitzgerald laughed. ‘Lots of crap comes up on that.’

He was an old-school copper. ‘Sometimes, some of it is actually useful.’

‘Tell me about it.’

‘Anyway, the name came up as we were investigating the abduction and murder of another seven-year-old in Manchester.’

‘The David Carsley case?’

Ridpath’s eyebrows rose. ‘You know about that?’

Fitzgerald laughed again. ‘We’re not actually backward in Liverpool. Some of us can read, too, joined-up words and even newspapers.’

‘Sorry, that came out wrong.’

‘Don’t worry, we’re used to it from Manchester coppers.’

‘Anyway, there are similarities in the case.’

‘Like?’

‘The abduction and murder of a child, the location of the body in a park. A location close to the River Mersey.’ Ridpath had just thought of the last one.

‘True, but there are a lot of differences too. My child was stabbed, yours was strangled. Mine was found almost immediately and yours wasn’t found for over a day. My body was dumped and yours was posed. You want me to go on? The biggest difference is we’ve caught our perp and he’s confessed. Your guy is still on the loose and will probably strike again.’

Ridpath was impressed.