Dead Like You

63

Tuesday 13 January

At the end of Kensington Gardens he turned left and walked down Trafalgar Street, looking for a payphone. He found one at the bottom and went in. Several cards featuring half-naked ladies offering French Lessons, Oriental Massage, Discipline Classes were stuck in the window frames. ‘Bitches,’ he said, casting his eye across them. It took him a moment to work out what he had to do to make a call. Then he dug in his pocket for a coin and shoved the only thing he had, a pound, into the slot. Then, still shaking with rage, he looked at the first number in the Argus article and dialled it.

When it was answered, he asked to be put through to the Incident Room for Operation Swordfish, then waited.

After three rings, a male voice answered. ‘Incident Room, Detective Constable Nicholl.’

‘I want you to give a message to Detective Superintendent Grace.’

‘Yes, sir. May I say who’s calling?’

He waited for a moment, as a police car raced past, its siren wailing, then he left his message, hung up and hurried away from the booth.