Chapter Two #3
“Exactly. Some Charles Dickens, Ted Bundy wannabe claiming to be able to teach people how to kill and get away with it. Just what we need. As if the Met isn’t stretched enough as it is,” Harry says.
“The victim’s father is certain that the author is to blame for Charlotte’s murder.
Not only was How to Get Away with Murder found at the scene, but there are similarities between Charlotte’s death and what Brady claims, in his book, to have done to another girl.
Plus the initials in the tree trunk, of course. ‘DB’ for Denver Brady.”
“You told the family about the book and the initials in the tree trunk?” Sam asks. “Wouldn’t we normally withhold that?”
“It’s simple,” Harry responds a little defensively. “We had to know if the book belonged to Charlotte. If her family had seen her reading it or—”
“If the killer left it at the scene himself.”
“Exactly.” Harry nods.
“Tell me about Charlotte.”
“Fourteen. High achiever. Sporty. Popular. Lived with her father, Nigel, and her uncle, Jack. Neither could say for certain if Charlotte owned How to Get Away with Murder. Apparently, the girl always had her nose in a book. A bit like you used to, I suppose. I remember that one time the school librarian called your dad because she was worried about the—”
“… nature of the material I was reading.” Sam smiles, remembering. “Truman Capote’s In Cold Blood and—”
“That one about Ted Bundy,” Harry chuckles.
“The Stranger Beside Me,” Sam confirms. “You had to convince my dad to—”
“Give you a book allowance.”
“Give me a book allowance.” They speak in unison, smiling. Harry’s eyes move to the picture of Sam’s father on his desk, and Sam looks fixedly out of the window at the saxe-blue city sky.
After a moment, Harry clears his throat.
“In my opinion,” he says, reaching for his eyebrow but halting midway to turn on his computer instead, “it’s far more probable that the victim knew her killer—we are all familiar with the statistics.
When a child is murdered, it’s almost always by someone they know.
But there’s a slim chance that this Denver idiot really exists and is in some way connected to Charlotte or her family.
We need to find him, even if just to rule him out of our inquiries, and we absolutely cannot let any serial-killer notions leak to the press.
It would send the country’s imagination into overdrive and completely derail Charlotte’s investigation. ”
“Catchy title,” Sam observes. “How to Get Away with Murder has a real ring to it. I’d definitely pick it up if I saw it in Waterstones.”
Sam smiles but Harry simply nods and continues.
“Obviously, you’re on light duties, with this being your first investigation back after, what—almost a year?
Eight months?” It’s six months and nineteen days, but who’s counting?
“So DI Edris will be Senior Investigating Officer and you’ll run the book inquiry team.
You’ll report to Edris primarily. And me, of course.
You’ll work three days per week, strictly no more, and—”
“I’ll run an inquiry team?” Sam asks, perking up. “How many?”
“You’ll have a TDC under you, and access to the civilian team.”
“A book inquiry team of just two?” she challenges. “Me and a probationer to catch a potential serial killer?”
In response, Harry just holds out a flimsy brown case file along with what appears to be a skinny novel.
Sam takes them from him. There’s very little in the file itself, and she guesses it’s been hastily thrown together over the weekend, probably a task delegated by Harry to a junior.
She sees a simple case summary and a system-generated progress report, along with a smaller envelope that presumably contains crime scene photographs.
It’s clear that Sam will be bringing herself up to speed as best she can.
Harry begins clicking his mouse and cursing modern technology.
She waits, her eyes drifting around the room, trying to find a comfortable spot to rest. She wonders if her new apprentice will have been briefed to keep an eye on her.
If they’ll have been warned about the unstable female, possibly suffering from perimenopausal hysteria, back on the job after spending six months at home after she lost her grip.
“What’s-his-name, your trainee, has been briefed,” Harry says, as if reading her mind.
“On that subject … make him work for it. He came in on one of these fast-forward schemes. Shortcuts to get bums on seats, when what we need is more like you and me. Grafters. Doers. Not box-tickers. So, make him pull his weight. Do the heavy lifting. Save you getting stressed out. Six-figure degrees and a rich daddy MP can only get him through the door, but he earns the rest. OK?”
“Yes, sir,” she says. Great, she thinks, a newbie to manage.
“Good. You’ll meet DI Edris before the next briefing.
I think she’s attending the postmortem today.
” He clicks again, oblivious to Sam’s stomach lurching at the word postmortem and the accompanying mental images of cold, sharp steel and chilled young flesh.
“It’s great to have you back, Sam. Don’t stretch yourself and don’t miss any sessions with Pete, OK? They’re mandatory.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And Sam, anything you need or if you … you know … feel overwhelmed again, please say. You’re not the first Sam Hansen I’ve said this to: my door is always open.” The DCI clears his throat, and Sam can see the moisture in his eyes as they linger again on the picture of himself and her father.
“Sure,” Sam says, then adds, “Any tips, Harry? On where to start with How to Get Away with Murder?”
Harry looks flattered. “You don’t need my help to investigate a book, Sam. Just find Brady quickly and rule him in or out. Personally, I’d start by comparing the description he gives in the book to Charlotte’s crime scene photos. There are some disturbing similarities.”
“Any chapter in particular?” Sam asks, flicking through the pages of the book and resisting the urge to sniff them.
“Yes,” Harry says. “Don’t stop reading until after the chapter about Sarah. That’s the one with the most links to Charlotte’s murder.”