LITMIR.BIZ

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around the briefing table.

      “OK, next up, where are we on Bill Evans’ alibi?”

      DC Annabel Willis, a new probationary constable who had been assigned to follow up on that lead, spoke up. “Not much yet, I’m afraid. Travelodge have been very helpful. They confirm that his credit card was used in the Cambridge branch that evening. We’re looking at CCTV to see if we can piece together his comings and goings, but by their own admission it’d be easy enough to leave the hotel for a few hours without being picked up if you really wanted to.”

      “What about this mysterious woman he claims to be having an affair with?”

      This time it was DS Johnson who addressed the team. “Not a lot yet. As he suggested, her mobile phone is switched off. They aren’t due to meet up for another month — more if they skip the New Year weekend. We’re trying to trace ownership of her phone, but it doesn’t look helpful. We contacted the dating agency to see if she paid by credit card and to ask what records they have on the two of them, but they’ve insisted on a court order. However, the woman I spoke to hinted that they hold very little useful data. They might not even use credit cards, rather an Internet-based payment system that isn’t located in this country.”

      “So verifying his alibi is going to be very difficult,” summarised Sutton.

      “Well, keep at him. Something about him doesn’t quite ring true.” The two officers nodded their assent.

      “With those two out of the way, perhaps we should turn our attention to new suspects. Gary, why don’t you take us through what you and DS Kent have found?”

      Hastings removed the picture of Blackheath’s car from the screen.

      “DS Kent and I have been putting all of the forensic and scene evidence into the HOLMES database to see what comes up. It’s been quite tricky as the most striking characteristic of this case has been the lack of evidence at the scene. Anyhow, we finally figured out the correct search terms to use, uploaded what information we had and we’ve started getting interesting results.”

      He clicked on the screen.

      “We have five potential hits. Rapes where very little forensic evidence was gathered and the CSIs speculate that the perpetrator went to great lengths to avoid leaving trace behind. In all five cases the victims followed a very set routine and were kidnapped, subdued with solvent, bound then taken to a secluded spot to be raped. They were then left and found by a member of the public. However, none of the five were killed. If it’s the same guy, either he’s changed his MO or Sally Evans’ death was an accident.

      “Working backwards in time, the most recent was that of a jogger in June 2006 in Reading. The case was unsolved. Four years earlier a similar attack took place in Bristol — again the case is unsolved. We know these two cases are separate to the first three cases, because those were solved and the attacker was behind bars when the later two took place.”

      “So we believe that the person responsible for the attacks in Bristol and Reading has struck again?” suggested Tony Sutton.

      “Actually, we suspect not. The other three attacks took place in June, August and November of 1997.”

      “It seems a long time between attacks. Why would he suddenly resurface?” asked Karen Hardwick.

      “The attacker was convicted in May 1998 and sent down for eighteen years. The attacks occurred in and around the village of Stennfield, a couple of miles north of here.”

      Tony Sutton, who had been at Middlesbury CID longer than anyone in the room, gasped audibly. “You’re kidding? You’re talking about Richard Cameron? That case was ongoing when I was a rookie DC. He got eighteen years back in 1998 — he’d be due parole pretty soon, I’d have thought.”

      Hastings nodded. “Released on licence this time last year. Bloody big coincidence, don’t you think?”

Chapter 16

      With the name of a potential suspect on the table a strategy was needed to bring the man in for questioning. Richard Cameron was a convicted serial rapist living on licence in a tiny village to the north of Middlesbury. Like all such ex-offenders he was required to report his current address to the police and maintain contact with a probation officer. Current police records on Cameron were sketchy and largely out of date, with interest in him minimal in the thirteen years since he’d been sent to prison. Prior to his release, the files had been updated with a more recent mugshot and details of his current whereabouts, but for the most part he was the responsibility of the probation service.

      Sam Pargeter was a no-nonsense ex-submariner. A gruff, bullish Yorkshire man with a salt and pepper haircut, he was candid about why he’d joined the service as he helped himself to a cup of jet-black coffee from the CID urn.

      “I got meself a reputation in the Navy as a bit of a hard bastard. Hard but fair. They stuck me in charge of whipping the less responsive boys into shape. Some of them see it all as a bit of a laugh when they’re training. ’Course, as soon as they come aboard a boat, and it finally dawns on them that they won’t even see daylight for the next six months, some of them start to play up. That’s where I came in.”

      After loading his cup with several heaped spoons of sugar he followed the two detectives back to Warren’s office, where he continued his story.

      “They called it ‘Pargeter’s detail’ and the kids were named ‘Pargies’. I don’t take bullshit from nobody, but I also don’t give it out. They stuck them with me for a week. For most of that week, they hated me — some of the names they called me when they thought I wasn’t listening would make your hair curl. Of course, by the end of the week, they thought the sun shone out of my arse. They realised that I was right and they was wrong — simple as. Some of them still write to me, letting me know about their latest promotions. Wouldn’t want to name names, of course, but there’s more than one flag officer who still sends me a Christmas card and a bottle of rum each year and calls himself a ‘Pargie’.

      “Anyhow, eventually it was time to leave the service. A mate of mine asked if I fancied helping out in one of those places out in the sticks where they hide out-of-control teenagers. I did about twelve months there, but found it too depressing. Everybody’s just marking time until the kids turn sixteen, get turfed out then stab their way into an adult prison. Then I saw a programme one night about the National Offender Management Service. It talked about how their job was to stop reoffending — by any means necessary — and try and get some of these folks back into doing something useful in society.

      “So I contacted them, went for an interview and here I am. They found out that I’m good with young lads and so I tend to specialise. A lot of these boys never really had a father figure, or if they did he was a drunk or an abuser. I keep an eye on them. If they don’t do what they’re told I’ll come around unannounced and smack ’em round the ear. If they’ve got a job interview and I’m free, I’ll turn up and hammer on the door until they get out of bed. I’ll even throw them in the shower and turn the water on them fully clothed if I have to.”

      Pargeter shrugged and took a large swig of his coffee. “Some of them don’t like it and neither do some of the more liberal-minded folk in the office, but my re-offending rates are thirty to forty per cent lower than the average and I have a wall full of pictures from my former boys showing me what they’re up to now. Can’t argue with results like that.”

      Warren eyed the man closely. Coming from most people, Sam Pargeter’s little speech would have sounded self-serving. Yet there was something about the way that he said it — calmly and matter-of-factly in a no-nonsense northern burr that seemed to invite trust in the man. Warren thought he could see why so many wayward youths responded to his methods.

      Sutton also seemed impressed, or at least as impressed as he ever did. “So why did you end up with Richard Cameron? He hardly seems to fit your usual profile.”

      “Well, ultimately, we have to deal with

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