The McDead

Private investigation

Rosie, a WPC, was Falls’ best friend. When she heard of Falls’ new assignment, she snorted: ‘They had me on that.’

‘What?’ Rosie laughed.

‘Did the Super tell you he’d picked you specially.’

Falls was mortified, considered lying but thought, What the hell? Said, ‘Yeah, he gave me that whole crock.’

‘Set you up in Clapham?’

‘Uh-oh.’

‘Girl, they’re shitting you, when there were three victims, they weren’t sure he specifically targeted black women, so they put my white ass on the line. I hung out in clubs, pubs till my Jack said he’d get a divorce.’

‘Did you talk to the victims?’

‘Honey, they’re black … are they gonna open up to a white girl-a white po-lees girl? Sure, where you been girl?’

As she spoke, she realised, and tried to counter, ‘Oh gawd, I mean … I’m a stupid cow, I’m sorry.’

‘It’s OK. Anything else?’

‘Well, they got in a profiler … just like the telly. He said the attacker was a white male in his thirties and that the violence would escalate. It has. He used the knife last time almost as if he were working up to a kill.’

She shuddered and said, ‘Don’t do it girl, say you’re not completely recovered.’

Falls gave her the look and Rosie said, ‘Please be extra careful.’

‘I will, I promise, so there.’

‘You know that rape is about hate, not sex.’

‘I read the report.’

‘Oh … and here’s you lettin’ me prattle on. Then you know about the garlic.’

‘What?’

‘All the victims mentioned his breath stank of it.’

‘Gee, that should narrow it down. We can eliminate all young males with fresh breath.’

‘Of which, in the whole of London, there’s probably five.’

‘Five percent?’

‘No, just five.’

Falls thought about Brant, then asked, ‘Do I look different to you Rosie?’

‘You mean … since?’

‘Yeah.’

‘A little quieter.’

‘Do I look … mean?’

Rosie hugged her, said, ‘You always looked mean.’