Gregson said nothing, only listened while his stomach turned slow somersaults.
“He denied purchasing the bracelets, but admitted to having been in communication with Colin Hart.”
“Clearly, he’s trying to throw you off the scent,” Gregson scoffed. “He refuses to admit to having killed Amy Llewellyn because he doesn’t want to add to his list of convictions, or he likes feeling in control, bugger only knows. What about this Colin character?”
“There is a growing weight of evidence against Colin Hart. Copies of prison correspondence bear out Edwards’ claim that the two have been in fairly regular contact and record what can only be described as abnormal hero-worshipping. We believe that Edwards may have directed Colin up to Sycamore Gap, potentially to unveil Amy Llewellyn, perhaps intending to bring Colin into the fold.”
“Some kind of initiation, you mean?”
“Possibly. The fact is that Colin was one of few individuals privy to the exact spot where Amy Llewellyn was found. Our second victim, Claire Burns, was found in exactly the same spot only a few hours later.”
“The second girl lived on his street, I understand?”
“That’s correct, sir. She lived a few doors down and we have statements from various parties to suggest that Colin had an unhealthy obsession with her. Added to which, following the discovery of Colin’s mother at his house this morning, we found files on his computer tracking his obsession with Claire, amongst others.”
Ryan thought of the names of the other women he had seen in Colin’s file and was gripped with real fear.
“So he’s gone on the run,” Gregson said, straightforwardly.
“Yes, sir. The surveillance team missed him, I regret to say. The mother died between six and nine p.m. yesterday evening, which covers the time Colin would have been at home, as well as a short timescale when he was at the station awaiting questioning.
“Sir, we have to assume that Colin is our main suspect in the murders of both Claire Burns and Geraldine Hart, given the facts I’ve already laid out. Additionally, his were the only prints confirmed on the syringe used to kill Geraldine and there is a lot of circumstantial evidence which relates to items found on Claire’s remains.”
“Seems like a cut-and-dry case, if you ask me,” Gregson stubbed his cigar out with a firm hand. “Colin thinks Edwards is a hero, because he’s a bit of a nobody and wouldn’t mind a bit of crazy-fame himself. Edwards decides to play along and lets him uncover one of his secret victims, one we’ve never been able to prove. Colin feels strong and special, so he looks at his own mediocre life and decides to shake it up a bit. Claire rejected him, so he pays her back, simultaneously drawing mega attention to himself, emulating the skill of the killers he has previously admired. He offs his mother, for good measure, since he’s on a roll, then panics.
“Sound about right?”
Ryan considered the explanation and found it highly plausible. In fact, it would explain almost every facet of the behaviour and certainly fit most of the forensic and circumstantial evidence in their possession.
Yet, it didn’t explain the phone call that Colin had made, yesterday. It didn’t account for the mentor Edwards had spoken of, with what Ryan believed was genuine conviction.
He remained silent, outwardly accepting of his commander’s synopsis.
“What efforts have been made to recover him?” Gregson continued.
“We’re going through all the usual channels to find him,” Ryan answered truthfully. “We’re keeping tabs on his bank accounts, looking into CCTV from the local area and there’s been an APW out on him all day.”
“Let me know when you find him – and I’d appreciate being the first, rather than the last to know, this time.”
“Yes, sir.”
In the corridor outside, MacKenzie stood beside the vending machine with two bars of chocolate in hand. Ryan took one and, after the first nourishing bite, glanced across at his co-conspirator.
“Stage one is complete.”
MacKenzie smiled and licked chocolate off her fingers.
“Edwards! You’ve got a visitor.”
The hoarse voice of Terry, the prison guard, filtered underneath the door to his cell before it opened. With unhurried movements, Edwards rose from where he had been meditating on the bed, deep in thought.
“Anytime this year,” the guard added, sullenly.
Edwards didn’t alter his gait, or his demeanour, by a fraction. They both knew that he topped up Terry’s income with the monthly hand-outs that kept his kid in the latest trainers, in return for which Edwards’ stash of mobile phones and cash was never uncovered during any of the spot-checks.