improved. His stained fingers found the cigarette packet and the lighter. Between his lips, the filter had a calming effect. For a moment, he caressed his wife’s gift. His thumb rubbed gently while his thoughts wandered. The noise of a passing car returned him from his reverie. He flicked open the top and spun the ratchet. The gift ignited. He cupped the flame and pulled deeply. Again, he looked at the inscription and again, he remembered the words: All my love, Susan x. The lighter dropped comfortably back inside his jacket pocket. He dragged hard before exhaling slowly. He remembered the conversation again. The stale taste returned to his mouth. A further drag resulted in a grimace. Bradshaw threw down the lit cigarette, hunched over and continued on his way.
5
SUNDAY, 09:15—15:30
A few minutes after leaving Stephen Bradshaw in the street, I was back inside my apartment. I went to my laptop and switched it on. The screen lit up and I typed in my password. I pushed in the memory stick and waited for it to register; then I typed in the access code, marzipan555 .
From the bedroom, I heard Charlotte’s voice call out, ‘Where’s my coffee and croissant?’
I ignored her and opened the first file. The laptop screen filled with a colour photograph taken outside an office building on Fleet Street. It showed a man exiting the building. I stared at the picture and staring back at me was the face of William Chester.
I thought of everything I could to give it a positive angle, but no matter how hard I tried, in the end, I had to concede that it wasn’t good.
I took Charlotte her breakfast of coffee and croissant, after which she soon left. I couldn’t concentrate on her; all I could think about was William Chester and the ST [ ST: sanctioned termination ]. I wanted to know why but I knew Bradshaw wouldn’t tell me. I wondered what Bradshaw knew or, whether indeed, he knew anything.
I returned to my laptop and read every file on the memory stick, and then I considered. I considered so hard my brain hurt. I didn’t know what to do. Finally, I decided to do nothing. I would wait. After all, I didn’t know where he was. William Chester was currently missing, so I couldn’t terminate him even if I wanted to. I would see what happened and then decide.
After taking a hot shower and with a half-full mug of coffee gripped firmly I decided to call Detective Superintendent Hannah Foley for an update on the murder enquiry.
I dialled her mobile number from the card she’d given me and she answered formally. I told her who I was and her voice lifted.
‘One five minute update coming up,’ she said.
This was good; this was going to help. I didn’t care what she told me as long as she didn’t tell me one thing, and that one thing was...
‘...and his name is William Chester,’ she said.
I managed to keep silent.
‘We’ve matched his DNA to a glass found in the flat and we have a positive ID from a neighbour that he was there on the day she was killed. We got lucky, his DNA was on the database following a traffic incident for which he was never prosecuted.’
I knew what was coming next.
‘And now he’s disappeared. His wife doesn’t know where he is, nor do his work colleagues; he’s some big city banker and they haven’t a clue where he is. He’s our man, I’m sure of it.’
‘It sounds like you’ve made good progress, I’m impressed.’
I wasn’t of course.
‘But just a friendly word of caution, make sure you check and double check everything; just because this man was at the flat and had a drink there doesn’t automatically make him the killer. He may have had opportunity but you’re also going to need a motive.’
‘Yeah sure, but he’s done a runner. That’s like an admission of guilt to me.’
‘Yes, maybe disappearing doesn’t look good but remember, don’t jump to conclusions, do the police work and do it right.’
She breathed out and said, ‘Yeah, no yeah,
5
SUNDAY, 09:15—15:30
A few minutes after leaving Stephen Bradshaw in the street, I was back inside my apartment. I went to my laptop and switched it on. The screen lit up and I typed in my password. I pushed in the memory stick and waited for it to register; then I typed in the access code, marzipan555 .
From the bedroom, I heard Charlotte’s voice call out, ‘Where’s my coffee and croissant?’
I ignored her and opened the first file. The laptop screen filled with a colour photograph taken outside an office building on Fleet Street. It showed a man exiting the building. I stared at the picture and staring back at me was the face of William Chester.
I thought of everything I could to give it a positive angle, but no matter how hard I tried, in the end, I had to concede that it wasn’t good.
I took Charlotte her breakfast of coffee and croissant, after which she soon left. I couldn’t concentrate on her; all I could think about was William Chester and the ST [ ST: sanctioned termination ]. I wanted to know why but I knew Bradshaw wouldn’t tell me. I wondered what Bradshaw knew or, whether indeed, he knew anything.
I returned to my laptop and read every file on the memory stick, and then I considered. I considered so hard my brain hurt. I didn’t know what to do. Finally, I decided to do nothing. I would wait. After all, I didn’t know where he was. William Chester was currently missing, so I couldn’t terminate him even if I wanted to. I would see what happened and then decide.
After taking a hot shower and with a half-full mug of coffee gripped firmly I decided to call Detective Superintendent Hannah Foley for an update on the murder enquiry.
I dialled her mobile number from the card she’d given me and she answered formally. I told her who I was and her voice lifted.
‘One five minute update coming up,’ she said.
This was good; this was going to help. I didn’t care what she told me as long as she didn’t tell me one thing, and that one thing was...
‘...and his name is William Chester,’ she said.
I managed to keep silent.
‘We’ve matched his DNA to a glass found in the flat and we have a positive ID from a neighbour that he was there on the day she was killed. We got lucky, his DNA was on the database following a traffic incident for which he was never prosecuted.’
I knew what was coming next.
‘And now he’s disappeared. His wife doesn’t know where he is, nor do his work colleagues; he’s some big city banker and they haven’t a clue where he is. He’s our man, I’m sure of it.’
‘It sounds like you’ve made good progress, I’m impressed.’
I wasn’t of course.
‘But just a friendly word of caution, make sure you check and double check everything; just because this man was at the flat and had a drink there doesn’t automatically make him the killer. He may have had opportunity but you’re also going to need a motive.’
‘Yeah sure, but he’s done a runner. That’s like an admission of guilt to me.’
‘Yes, maybe disappearing doesn’t look good but remember, don’t jump to conclusions, do the police work and do it right.’
She breathed out and said, ‘Yeah, no yeah,
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