Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The email came through during the morning briefing, which included Vinny delivering a speech about how disgusted he was at how some men behaved online.
This didn’t surprise me. As much as Vinny could be a right royal arse, he had a mother, sister and a female cousin who’d lived with them when they were kids.
If he had a trigger, it was men being aggressive to women when it was uncalled for.
I saw the email notification fly up on my screen, unfocused enough to be distracted by it, so I clicked it open.
From: AriadneThread_Atlas@
Subject: Precursor
(This thread will close. Do not reply.)
Mia,
The Wraith Hunter Mk2.
Purchased via ZerkNet Exchange.
23 October. Four years ago.
Handle used: OffGridSpectre.
Payment through Monero. Drop point logged near Conwy Marina.
Transaction was deliberate — no testing, no noise.
This was before Mason. Before Leeds.
Maybe he wasn’t the reason. Just a rehearsal.
No known incel traffic. No ideological trail.
No post-kill boasting.
Not rage — preparation.
Go back to Leeds.
That’s where you’ll find them.
Atlas
My response this time was different. I’d met Atlas out in the open.
I had a face to put to the name, even if it was nothing like the name he’d been born with, but I had no idea about his motivations.
Why me? Why was he interested in this case?
Was he somehow connected to Charlie Mason, a relative who wanted to see the right person held to account for Charlie’s murder?
I waited for the briefing to finish, not noting any new information on any leads, other than that we were about to go to town looking into the identities of a group of likely men, who were very involved in their opinion that the three dead women had it coming to them, with another handle, relatively new, who was promising this wasn’t the last.
It could be chatter with nothing in it, but Vinny was convinced that there was more to it.
He’d identified one of the posters, a man living in Norfolk, twenty-something, who liked to repost quotes from figures with extreme views on the role of women, which was, of course, developing a self-fulfilling prophesy; with public views about women knowing their place, what woman would want to date him, and, of course rather than it being the poster's fault, it would be women’s.
I followed Wrigley into the office, carrying my phone with the email on it.
“What’s up?” He didn’t bother sitting down. “You have a look when you’ve got something to tell me, and you’re not sure how I’m going to respond.”
“I’m really not looking forward to breaking in a new boss when you retire. Can’t you do another five years?”
“If I did that, you’d have an additional murder – mine. And you wouldn’t have to look far for a suspect – Pam. No, Mia, six months or so and I’m taking the pot at the end of what’s been a very shitty rainbow. What’ve you got.”
“Another email from Atlas.”
He didn’t flinch. “Oh, aye. What does this one say?”
“They don’t seem to concern you – you aren’t actively trying to work out the identity.” Which was niggling me more than what the emails contained.
Wrigley didn’t say anything for a moment, just sat down at his desk and fiddled with a pen, his key tell that he was mulling something over.
“I think this case – and you – have piqued the interest of someone who thinks they’re a bit of detective themselves. What did he look like?”
“I can show you.” I opened the photo app on my phone and found the selfie I’d taken, post run. “Here. He was happy enough for me to take this.”
Wrigley took the phone from me and stared at the photo, nodding. “Aye, nothing to worry about there. That’s why he let you take it. You do a reverse image search of that and nothing will come up, I reckon.”
“You’re right. It didn’t.” That’d been one of the first things I’d done, even before I’d driven off.
“What’s he said this time, then?”
I showed him the email. “I’ll get Nick looking at them”
Vinny flew into the office. “Boss – I’ve got another ID, sorry, Mac.”
“Hang on, son. I agree, get Nick to look at this and what do you want to do?” Wrigley gave Vinny a look to freeze him.”
“I want to get some more information on Charlie Mason. His parents are dead, but some of his siblings are still alive, but he also had a social worker as an adult as he was classed as vulnerable due to his mental health. I’d like to speak to them just to see if there was anyone who may’ve targeted him.
Like the email says, I want to go back to Leeds and the hospital.
” I ignored the holes Vinny’s eyes were trying to drive into me.
“I think you’re wasting your time, Mac. This is seriously something to do with incel ideology. This bloke – Jordan Calvert, on the forum he’s known as Cracked Compass 87 – he lives in Manchester, and he’s a teacher.” Vinny folded his arms. “I’d like to bring him in for questioning.”
I stopped, frozen. More unnerved than I had been by the email. “Jordan Calvert? What school does he teach at?”
“Moorbridge High in Didsbury - ” Vinny stopped, too focused on me. “What school does your boyfriend teach at?”
“Moorbridge High. Lucy’s there too.” Panic sometimes spiked sharper than a needle. “Do you want me to find out if they have any concerns about him?” I felt like my brain had gone into overdrive, reeling through anything that Cavan or Lucy had said, or I’d said to them.
“Was he at the party?” Vinny was starting to look ruffled.
I shook my head. “No, he’s not a friend of Lucy’s. But I think he plays football with Cavan.”
Wrigley tapped on the table. “Vinny, don’t bring him in yet. Speak to the Local Authority Designated Officer, see if any concerns have been raised about him while he’s been a teacher, and contact the DBS. At the moment, we only have a few comments he’s made online and he lives in the area.”
“We could bring him in as intel to start with.” Vinny wasn’t going to give up on this, but I understood why. This was the first name we’d had in days.
“No, I want a bit more. Mac, do your digging on Charlie Mason, and forward that email to Nick – he can do some follow up work online.” Wrigley stood up again. “I’ll go and have a word with him.”
“Boss, do you really think Charlie Mason’s got anything to do with this beyond a connection with the weapon? I mean - ”
Wrigley cut Vinny short. “When you’re DI, you can make the calls.” He left his office, leaving Vinny glaring at me.
“Why did you get chosen to receive these emails? Don’t you think someone’s just trying to throw you off?” His tone was accusatory and I wondered if he thought I was hunting for some sort of extra glory.
“Maybe. But maybe not.”
“Why you, Mia? Why’s he emailed you? What’ve you done that’s made him pick you?”
“Would you rather it was you? Is that what this is about?”
He looked at the floor, shoulders slumping. “Yes – no, not because I don’t want you to break the case. I just find it weird that he’s contacted one of the only women on the team, and you’re a similar age to the vics.” He looked back up, meeting my eyes.
“Vinny, you know I can floor you if you tried to attack me?”
“No, you couldn’t. I know you do Thai boxing and all that, but I’m a foot taller than you and probably five stone heavier.”
“That doesn’t matter. Try it. Try and take me down when I’m not suspecting it and then you don’t have to worry about me.” He’d never admit that he did, but there’d been countless times when he’d pushed in front of me if he thought a situation could be in the slightest bit dangerous.
Vinny stood up, trying to make himself two inches taller. “You’re on. But I still want to know why he’s picked you.”
I opened my mouth, almost ready to tell him about Stan, and then closed it again. “Maybe one day we’ll find out, but I need to at least look at what he’s saying.”
“Fair enough. Are you going to give Cavan the head’s up about Jordan Calvert?”
I remember the scent of his aftershave on the towel in the bathroom. “No. It’s your line, and that’s probably for the best.”
He nodded. “Have you gone off the incel theory?”
“No. But I think it’s someone who’s not necessary an incel, but is getting off on those discussions, probably because he knows he’s actually doing something about it, and those who are mouthing off aren’t getting off their arses.”
“What about more than one killer?”
“No, because I think he’s playing us. This is a really organised killer. Someone who’s planned this, and I reckon the email’s right – this has been going on a lot longer than the timeline we’re looking at.” I showed Vinny the email on my phone.
“We’ll see if there’s anything in it.”
I saw Nick waving me over, probably to discuss the email. “Good luck with Calvert.”
I exited, getting ten paces across the office when I felt arms grab round my shoulders, too high to do much to stop me. I bent down, using Vinny’s weight and his own momentum to land him on his back, and carried on walking before the rest of the office knew what was going on.
“Jesus, Mia.” I offered him a hand to help pull him up. “Where did you learn that?”
“Group gymnastics and a bit of cheerleading.”
“Cheerleading?” His eyebrows went straight up. “You were a cheerleader?”
“Down boy. I was thirteen.”
“Not in my head you weren't. In my head you’re still a cheerleader now.” He gave me a wink that had me pretending to throw up as I walked away, ready to contact Leeds social care to track down someone who had more to tell me about Charlie Mason.