He replied to Gill as he sat at his desk, saying he’d grab a takeaway later, not to worry, and wishing her good luck with the meeting. He ended the text with a single kiss (there were four kisses on Gill’s message) and then sent a text to Carmella, asking her how it was going. He hated waiting around like this.
He also felt antsy because at the moment they only had this one line of inquiry, if you didn’t count Winkler’s strand of the operation – which he didn’t. He knew from bitter experience how dangerous it was to focus on one suspect, to have tunnel vision in a case. In 90 per cent of investigations, the obvious solution was the right one. The prime suspect did it, the odds worked out. Human behaviour was depressingly but reassuringly predictable. But sometimes, as in the Child Catcher case, it was like trying to fathom a magic trick: misdirection, sleight of hand. Smoke and mirrors. Right now, all the evidence seemed to be pointing towards one person, but Patrick lived in fear of Plan A going tits up when you had no Plan B in place.
He opened his Moleskine notepad, plugged his headphones into his computer and opened Spotify. This morning, even The Cure couldn’t lighten his mood. He needed something that would block out the chatter and ambient noise around him while not distracting him too much. Aural wallpaper. He clicked on an Elbow playlist and got to work.
At the top of the first page, he wrote ‘ROSE’, adding ‘JESSICA’ in the corresponding spot on the facing page. In a space in the middle he listed the similarities between the two murders.
OnTarget fans.
Users of social media/fan forums.
Caucasian, teenage (14/15 yo), lower m/c, state schools, average height/weight.
M.O. of perp: strangulation, no sexual penetration, torture – cuts, sprayed with perfume, clothes and possessions removed.
On Jessica’s side, he wrote some extra details: her injuries were worse, displaying an escalation in violence. The cuts were deeper and, according to Daniel Hamlet, had been inflicted with more force. Jess had bruises on her face; some of her hair had been yanked out. Why was this? Had she fought, made him angry? Was it the kind of escalation sometimes seen in serial murders, where the killer got more extreme as he went along, more confident and frenzied, needing the greater violence to feel satisfied? Or had he hated Jessica more than he hated Rose?
Patrick pondered this last question. How had the killer chosen these two victims? Were the girls interchangeable or had they been targeted specifically?
He wrote this down too, with a thick question mark that made him itch with frustration. From what Wendy and Martin had found out so far, there was no sign of them interacting online except in the most superficial way. They had both tweeted and written about the same subjects, namely how much they loved Shawn, how amazing the last OnT video was, how much they despised a Daily Mail journalist who had interviewed the band and described them as ‘vacuous puppies without the guts or gumption to say a single interesting thing’. The only thing that set them apart from a hundred thousand other OnT fans was the level of their online activity. They were – what did Wendy call them? – super users.
What were the other differences and similarities? Rose was found in a hotel; Jessica in a photo studio. They knew the studio had once been used by OnTarget, but there appeared to be no connection between the Travel Inn and the band. They had never stayed there, not in this or any other branch. No-one at the hotel had any connection to the band. So why had the killer chosen the photo studio, with its direct connection, and the hotel, which had none? The use of the perfume suggested deliberate symbolism. It seemed he wanted it to be known that their fandom had made them targets. Or was it, as Carmella had pointed out, just that both girls had been carrying the fragrance with them? Their mothers had confirmed that they both owned a bottle of Friendship. Maybe that was all it was.
Maybe, Patrick thought with a start, the fact that they were both OnTarget fans was a red herring. Could that be possible? After all, a large percentage of teenage girls in this country liked OnT.
He spotted Wendy at the other end of the office and called her over.
‘All right?’ she said. She seemed a little wary, like an office worker who’s been summoned by their boss, but, more than that, she looked tired. Knowing her exhaustion was caused by the long hours she’d been putting in, Patrick felt more pleasure than sympathy, sure that Wendy was going to make an excellent officer when she got some more experience under her belt. With her youthful looks and Black Country accent, Wendy struggled to be taken seriously. Patrick, with his tattoos, could empathise with that.
‘Wendy,’ he said. ‘I need to know if there’s any connection between the Travel Inn and OnTarget.’ He summarised what they knew so far. ‘Any ideas?’
She pondered a moment and then asked, ‘What room was Rose found in?’
‘Three-six-five.’
She snapped her fingers in triumph. ‘Thought it might be.’
‘Eh?’
‘“Room 365” is the title of an OnTarget song. It’s on the first album. It’s about wanting to lock yourself away with a girl 365 days of the year.’ She sang a snatch of the song, her voice sweet and tuneful. ‘And my baby comes alive/In room three-sixty-five, three-sixty-five.’
Patrick stared at her. ‘Why didn’t anyone else know that?’
Wendy gave him a little shrug. ‘You obviously didn’t ask the right person.’
He grinned at her and she appeared delighted to have been so helpful.
‘How are you getting on?’ With the new focus on Shawn Barrett, Patrick had lost track of what Wendy was up to. ‘I assume you haven’t found any direct connections between Rose and Jessica online yet? Nothing on the forums? Or on their computers?’
‘Nothing direct.’ Her eyelashes fluttered nervously. ‘But I am making good progress. I’m getting to know the girls who use the OnT forum, the other super users, gaining their trust. I’m pretty much ready to start a conversation about Rose and Jess now. I just need a couple more days.’
Patrick tapped his fingers on the desk. Was this a waste of time? Maybe it would be better to pull her off this task. Winkler kept going on about how he needed someone to help him with, as he put it, the donkey work. He would hate to bestow that fate upon her, but . . .
‘Please, Patrick.’
He looked up sharply.
‘Sorry, I meant, sir.’
‘It’s OK. You can call me Patrick when it’s just the two of us around. Or “boss”, if you prefer.’
She turned pink and met his eye and he realised his words had come out wrong.
Embarrassed, he said, ‘OK, it’s fine. If you’re sure you’re getting close. But if it seems like these young women don’t know anything useful, I want you working on something else.’
‘Of course. Thanks, er, Patrick.’
‘Any decision I make is for the sake of the case, so you don’t need to thank me.’
She deepened from pink to red, as bad as Gareth Batey, who was renowned for his blushes. Patrick sighed, wishing he could shake this prickly, irritated mood.