of ?"
she demanded in tones her elocution mistress would have been proud of.
Kevin smirked.
"Well, most of us had already decided that McConnell wasn't our man. But Brandon had put a tail on him, so when he tried to skip the country, we were more or less obliged to pull him in. By that time, it was starting to look definite that McConnell isn't the Queer Killer. Plus, he doesn't fit the profile that Tony Hill came up with."
"I don't believe I'm hearing this," Penny said sharply.
Kevin finally registered that all was not well.
"What? You got a problem, darling?"
"Just a fucking bit," said Penny, enunciating each syllable crisply.
"You mean to tell me you've not only put an innocent man on remand, you've also let the world's press broadcast the assumption that this man is quite probably the Queer Killer?"
Kevin propped himself up and took another swig of his drink, reaching out to rumple Penny's hair with his other hand. She pulled away with a jerk.
"It's no big deal," he said patronizingly.
"Nobody can get a lynch mob together and go round his house while he's inside. And we reckon that telling the world between the lines that we've got the killer banged up might just provoke the real killer into getting in touch with us to make sure we know he's still out there."
"You mean you want to drive him to kill again?" Penny demanded, her voice rising.
"Of course not," Kevin said indignantly.
"I me air to get in touch.
Like he did after he'd killed Gareth Finnegan. "
"My God," Penny said wonderingly.
"Kevin, how can you sit there and tell me that nothing bad can happen to Stevie McConnell while he's locked up in prison?"
While Penny Burgess and Kevin Matthews were arguing the morality of Stevie McConnell's remand, in C Wing of Her Majesty's Prison Barleigh, three men were taking turns to show Stevie McConnell what happens to sex cases in prison. At the end of the landing, a warden stood impassively, appearing as oblivious to McConnell's screams and entreaties as a deaf man with his hearing aid switched off. And on the moors above Bradfield, a ruthless killer put the finishing touches to the torture instrument that would help show the world that the man in prison was not the person responsible for four perfectly executed serial punishments.
The HOLMES room was a quiet hum of activity, operators staring into screens and tapping keys. Carol found Dave Woolcott sitting in his office picking listlessly at fish and chips. He looked up when she entered and managed a wan smile.
"Thought you were having a night off," he said.
"I'm still hoping to. My brother promised to buy me a bucket of popcorn all to myself if I make it to the multi- screen before the film begins. I just wanted to swing by and run something past you."
She dumped two plastic bags on Dave's desk. Glossy computer magazines spilled out.
"I've got this theory," she said.
"Well, more of a hunch." For the third time, Carol outlined her idea about the killer importing videos and transforming them into supports for his fantasies.
Dave listened carefully, nodding as Carol's ideas sank in.
"I like it," he said simply.
"I've read that profile a couple of times now, and I really can't accept what Dr Hill says about keeping stable just by using videos of the killings. It doesn't make sense. Your idea does. So what do you want from me?"
"Michael reckons that tracing the buyers of Vicom 3D Commander might lead us to him if we're right. I'm not so sure. It's possible that the company the killer works for has the software, and he does the manipulation work there. To be on the safe side, though, he'd need to do all the scanning and digitizing at home. So I thought it would also be worthwhile doing a trawl of the suppliers of video digitizers and video capture cards. We can find suppliers via the ads in these magazines, since virtually all computer stuff comes mail order. We should also contact local computer clubs too. If you've got any bodies to spare, that is."
Dave sighed.
"Dream on, Carol." He picked up a magazine and flicked through the pages.
"I suppose I could draw up a list tonight and tomorrow, and first thing Monday morning we could get a couple of DCs to do a ring-round. When my operators will have time to input the data, I don't know, but I will see that it gets done. OK?"
Carol grinned.
"You're a star, Dave."
"I'm a bloody martyr,