writing out my prescriptions as it is. But I do think it would help speed things up if we had more resources at our disposal.’
‘You’re in no position to request a larger budget. Whatever else happens in this case, it will only ever be an irritating pimple on the nose of the face that is London’s crime problem. Right now the ground forces are out there trying to cope with the serious gunsters. Do you, in your rarefied little world up here, have any notion of the shit that’s been happening around you in the last three years? Do you have any idea how many armed gangs the Met are coping with right now? I have a partial list here for your edification, Mr Bryant. Our boys are currently tackling the Lock City Crew and the Much Love Crew in Harlesden—six deaths and around a hundred non-fatal shootings so far this year—the Holy Smokes, Tooti Nung, Bhatts and Kanaks over in Southall, the Drummond Street Boys are looking to expand in Camden, the Snakeheads, 14K and Wo Shing Wo are chopping each other up in Soho, you’ve got Spanglers and Fireblades in Tottenham, Brick Lane Massive, A-Team up in Islington, Stepney and Hackney Posses, Bengal Tigers, Kingsland Crew, Ghetto Boys, East Boys, Firehouse Posse and Cartel Crew in Brixton, maybe two dozen other named—that is, official—gangs. For every ethnic group that’s 99 per cent decent and just wants a quiet life, we have 1 per cent that’s pure bleeding evil. Kurds and Turks in Green Lanes smuggling heroin, Jamaicans doing the same in Ladbroke Grove, King’s Cross Albanians running 80 per cent of the city’s prostitutes, the Hunts nicking posh cars in Canning Town, the Brindels and Arifs shooting each other up in Bermondsey, Peckham Boys facing off against their own junior arm in Lewisham, and you can’t just let ’em sort each other out because innocent people get caught in the crossfire. So let’s keep your situation in perspective, shall we? I’m right in thinking, am I not, that you’ve made no advance in the single case you are supposed to be sorting out before Monday?’
‘You only just agreed that there is a case,’ May complained, chastened.
‘That’s because no one had bothered to point out the connection between their deaths.’
‘What connection?’ asked Bryant.
‘Four instances of suffocation, of course,’ Land all but shouted. ‘A common repeat method. Stone me, it’s not rocket science.’
‘Hardly a repeat method.’ Bryant waved the idea aside. ‘I mean, all the deaths have involved blockage of the lungs, but that’s not unusual. Life-traumas have to affect either the lungs, brain or heart. A drowning, a burial, an asphyxiation and now arson, it’s more a matter—Oh, Raymond, Raymond, you’re a genius!’ Bryant’s eyes widened excitedly. ‘Why didn’t I think of that?’
‘Think of what?’ asked Land, mystified.
‘Not now, there’s a chap—come back later once we’ve had a chance to go over this.’ Bryant waved him from the room. ‘I’m sorry we’re not getting into machine-gun battles with your posses, but perhaps we can make an advancement here after all. Go on, off you go.’
‘I will not be shooed out of my own unit,’ warned Land lamely.
‘Don’t be ridiculous, it’s not your unit, any more than Number Ten Downing Street belongs to the Prime Minister. I swear to you this will be sorted out in the next twenty-four hours, in time for your new Monday caseload. Now do us all a favour and bugger off.’
‘You’re really going too far, Arthur.’ Land trudged away as Bryant booted the door shut.
‘I’m getting senile, John, my synaptic responses aren’t what they used to be. I should have spotted this earlier.’
‘What?’
‘It’s blindingly obvious now. The four methods of death correspond to the four elements. Ruth Singh—water. Elliot Copeland—earth. Jake Avery—air. Tate—fire.’
‘Now wait a minute, Arthur, don’t go running off—’
‘Are we dealing with something pagan and elemental? London has always had strong connections with the four elements, you know. Look at the Ministry of Defence on Horseguards Avenue, framed by the elements: two stone naked ladies, symbols of earth and water. There were going to be two more statues, but fire and air were lost in spending cutbacks. More alarmingly, does that mean it’s now at an end? If the killer has successfully concluded his business, how will we ever discover the truth? Successful murderers know when to stop, John. Suppose he’s achieved his aim without us ever getting on the right track? We need some confirmation from old miseryguts. We have to go