Lastnight Read Free Page B

London, more than five miles away from where she lived. ‘The friend?’ asked Nightingale.
    ‘We don’t know,’ said Chalmers. ‘We checked all the numbers on her mobile and they’re all accounted for. If it was a friend, they didn’t talk on the phone.’
    Nightingale walked from whiteboard to whiteboard, scratching his neck. ‘Two of them were found on Hampstead Heath?’
    ‘Luke Aitken. He lived in Hampstead with his parents. And Stella Walsh. She lived with her parents in Islington. Very little blood at the dump sites so they were killed elsewhere.’
    ‘Any attempt made to hide the bodies?’
    Chalmers shook his head. ‘Dumped not far from the road in both cases. Wrapped in polythene. No forensics at all. The bodies were probably dumped at night and were discovered the next day. Gabriel Patterson was also wrapped in plastic and dumped on a railway embankment. Also no attempt at concealment.’
    Nightingale waved a hand at the five boards. ‘And all these took place over a two-week period?’
    Chalmers nodded. He took out a pack of chewing gum and slid a piece between his lips. ‘You’re wondering why so many, so fast?’
    ‘I’m wondering how a killer like this comes from nowhere. Serial killers generally work their way up to it. They start with rape and assault and then they move on to killing. This guy seems to have hit the ground running, don’t you think?’
    ‘There have been no other killings of Goths in the UK since Sophie Lancaster in 2007 and Greater Manchester Police caught the gang responsible.’ He nodded at the whiteboards. ‘This is totally different to the Lancaster case. This is organised and well planned and whoever is responsible leaves no evidence behind. No hairs, no fibres, no nothing. We’re working on the theory that the killers use forensic suits and foot coverings and probably hair nets.’ He pointed at the Abbie Greene crime scene photographs. ‘There was a lot of blood on the floor and signs that someone had stood in it, but no prints. Just smudges.’
    Nightingale frowned and scratched his head. ‘So they know about forensics.’
    ‘So does anyone with a TV set these days,’ said Chalmers. ‘But the point isn’t that they know about forensics, it’s the fact that they go to all that trouble not to leave any evidence behind. There’s a lot of planning and forethought going into these killings and that’s not normally associated with hate crimes. With hate crimes you tend to get unplanned violence, someone gets angry and lashes out.’ He flashed Nightingale a tight smile. ‘Someone out there hates Goths enough to go to a great deal of trouble – we’ve tried to find them and drawn a blank. I’m hoping you might have more luck.’
    Nightingale walked over to the single window in the room and looked down at the street below. ‘Why are you asking me, Chalmers? You cut me off your Christmas card list a long time ago.’
    ‘This is your area of expertise, Nightingale. At least that’s what it says on your website.’
    ‘My assistant looks after my web presence,’ said Nightingale. He turned his back on the window and folded his arms.
    ‘Yeah, well, according to her you’re a world authority on supernatural matters.’
    ‘And that’s what you think these killings are? Supernatural?’
    ‘I think that whoever is killing these Goths is part of that crazy, mixed-up world that you move in and out of. Rawlings has been sending his people in and the shutters come down. But you.’ He shrugged. ‘You they might talk to.’
    ‘If you hadn’t noticed, I don’t wear mascara and tight black jeans.’
    ‘No, but you talk their language.’
    ‘And you’ve got a budget for this?’
    The superintendent frowned. ‘Budget?’
    ‘Payment. Money. I’m not a cop, Chalmers. Haven’t been for a while. I work for a living these days.’
    Chalmers shook his head. ‘There’s no budget. You can do it pro bono.’
    ‘I was never a fan of U2, to be honest. Mind you that