‘The public have a right to know what you’re not telling us.’
Lyndsey Saunders stepped in front of Gina as she tried to exit the crowd of reporters, ignoring every question. ‘You should talk to me, maybe then we could work together on finding out who sent this letter, but I suspect you already know. The more I delve, the more I’m finding. I know you better than you think.’
‘What the hell does that mean? You sent me the letter, didn’t you? Not the one in the paper. It feels like a threat you know, sending letters like that.’
Lyndsey smirked. ‘So there definitely is another letter. My offer still stands. Let’s work together on this. Show me the letter. Trust me.’
Gina nudged her out of the way. ‘Stay away from me. If you cared about catching this killer, you’d have brought that letter to us before publishing it. Can’t you see what you’ve done? Trust you – never!’
‘I’m doing my job, DI Harte. The public deserve the truth, not a censored version of it. It is clearly in the public’s interest.’
‘You’ve hampered this investigation good and proper. The killer is loving what you did, so thank you for not helping.’ Gina ran to the main door and hurried in, fists clenched and face reddening with a burning anger. She stood outside the ladies and shouted as she hit the wall. Seething, she hoped that she could calm herself, just a little, but it wasn’t working. Her hands itched to hit out again until they bled.
Gina thudded through the fire door, straight to Briggs’s office, knocked once and entered without waiting to be asked. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. Pacing around the room, she stopped and stared out of the window, catching the end of a bus as it passed.
Redness crept up her neck. She scratched and tore at her skin until she almost drew blood.
‘Stop. We’ll catch whoever sent this letter to the press.’
Gasping for breath and fighting back a tear, Gina backed away from his embrace. ‘It’s like he’s back. I can’t escape – ever. Who’s doing this to me? Why me?’
His gaze fixed on hers. ‘They’re playing with you and we will find them. You should go home for your own safety. We can get patrols to drive by regularly or even station someone at your cottage—’
‘No, no and no.’ She wiped a tear away. ‘I’m going to be the one to catch whoever is doing this. I don’t need to go home and calm down or back off or whatever else you think I might need to do. Look at me.’ She paused. ‘Yes, it’s taken me by surprise, but you know what? I’m tougher than this. I won’t be defeated.’
He steadied her towards the chair and pulled it out. ‘Here, have this.’
She reached over to take his cup of coffee. ‘Thanks, sir.’ She took a sip and leaned back. ‘Right, panic over. Think, think, think.’ She tapped the side of her head and took a deep breath. ‘I have a plan and I’m sticking with it. As soon as Alexander Swinton’s mother is back at one thirty, I’m heading over there. At three, I have to take her to the morgue to view her son’s body. Nothing has changed.’ She could tell herself that as much as she liked, but things had changed. She swallowed and tensed up.
‘Do you know why you were mentioned in our killer’s letter?’
She shook her head. ‘If I knew that I wouldn’t look like this.’ She pointed at her blank expression then snatched the newspaper. ‘The press know how to stir. I wish they’d come here with the letter, at least to give me, us, the chance to prepare for its publication. What the hell were they thinking?’
‘Sales, that’s what Lyndsey thinks about. They love a bit of hysteria and threat.’
She nodded as she read it all again, stopping at the letter.
DI Harte,
This is for you. Trapped people, they claw, they plead, they beg. You begged, didn’t you? Remember? Think back. Now I have your attention. Stay with me. I need you.
I know. I know everything.
I watch.
I wait.
I am coming.
‘Do we have the actual letter?’ She slammed the paper closed and gasped for breath as she fought back every wave of panic that was threatening to spill over.
‘Wyre has gone to collect it. I do know it’s printed in Times New Roman, twelve point font. It will be photographed and taken straight to the lab.