A Friend Of Mine Prologue There were three people next to him, and not one of them batted an eyelid.

He was just like them: a man in a pin-striped suit playing on his Blackberry. Why should they give a shit? He moved the cursor over to the Send Friend Request button, and selected it without hesitation. That done, he slipped the phone smoothly into his pocket. The lift was moving slowly, and a low quality instrumental version of Bleeding Love was playing over the speakers. How appropriate, the man thought as he picked his suitcase up from the ground. The numbers on the LED screen finally flicked to 19 and the doors slid open with a ping. He stepped out into a large room filled with cubicles. The noise was almost unbearable, a low, constant moaning of sales-talk voices, clacks on keyboards and coffee machines dispensing their juice. Battery chickens, he thought. Cluck cluck. He made a beeline through the gaps between cubicles, careful not to bump into anyone. That could be disastrous. The high powered lights oddly made it hard for him to see too far in front of him; the glare was immense. Eventually, though, he reached his destination. It was a plain red door, completely nondescript, on the far side of the room. He looked around to make sure no-one had clocked him. Confident, he gave a knock. There was no response. He knocked again, three times. Still nothing. He finally pulled the door handle and walked in. Practically a cupboard, this room was filled with wires, blinking lights and whirring gears, as though hed stepped into the head of a robot. It was remarkably chilly, cold as a Tube station. He shut the door calmly behind him as he entered. Using the tattered computer chair that had obviously seen its fair share of technicians as a boost, he pushed up one of the ceiling tiles, revealing even more wires. He pushed them out of the way, creating a gap large enough for his purposes. Then, he put his briefcase up there. Marked on one side were the letters MLK, shaped somewhat unusually, as if the writer had been drunk during the inscription. Once it was in there tightly, the man took out his Blackberry once more and took a picture of the case. After saving it, he replaced the loose tile and got down from the chair. He returned it to exactly where it had come from, seat orientation and all, and went back to the door. He opened it just a small distance at first and, once the coast was clear, stepped back out into the cubicles. He closed the door behind him once again and walked back the way he had come. Cluck cluck.

PART 1: PERSONAL INFORMATION

Chapter 1: Paul Freeman wants to be your friend Carol Matheson was sat at her desk. It was pretty basic flat packed Ikea that wasnt even correctly put together, but it did the job. Next to her on the desk were piles of books about psychology, all with incredibly long and dull-sounding titles. Several were as thick as Carols fist. Shed come in with the full intention of doing her assignments, but, as usual, the lure of Facebook was immense. She sometimes wished shed done a new media course at Uni instead: at least then shed have an excuse! A little red box in the top left of the screen got Carol pretty excited. It meant she had a friend request. This kind of thing didnt happen to her all that often. Sure, she had over a hundred friends on Facebook, but that paled in comparison to some of her Uni mates. Fran Dreyfus had nearly a thousand.

Carol clicked the notification. A couple of seconds later, a picture came up on screen. It was pretty small, but Carol could make out that it was a handsome looking guy with short brown hair. His name was Paul Freeman. Carol searched her memory banks, thinking about whether she knew him or not. The picture wasnt exactly the clearest, but there was the chance that shed run into him at a party the previous night. She decided to accept the request what was the worst that could happen? After all, shed not put any personal information on her profile, she wasnt stupid. A couple of minutes later, a message window popped up in the bottom right of the screen. A Chat message, from Paul Freeman. Hi, it said. hi, Carol replied. hows things? nb, thanks. You? Yeh, good. There was silence for a moment, before Carol finally asked the big question. do i kno you? uhi think so. Im Paul. we met in FUsion the over nite. oh, said Carol, yeh, course. remember u now. They chatted in this manner for quite a long while, about nothing in particular. He made her type lol several more times than she was usually comfortable with, and it wasnt even when she didnt know what to say. She liked him. She just wished she could remember who he was. Eventually, she signed out and managed to get some work done. It wasnt the best, but it was better than nothing. She could worry about editing it later. Later that evening, Carol spoke to Paul again. Once more, they just went on and on about nonsense, really. They continued to speak over the next few days, nearly every time they were online together. Eventually, Paul typed the words which were almost inevitable. we shuld meet sumtime Carol didnt really know how to respond. Sure, she liked him, but did she want to meet up with him? His profile suggested that he was a pretty nice bloke, into films, rock music, and had liked seemingly hundreds of quotes from The Inbetweeners. Carol decided to be non-commital. yeh, somtime. might be good. wen? Again, the cat had caught Carols fingers. She didnt know how to respond. Dont commit. uhbusy this week. dunno. soon tho! Paul went quiet after that, and they didnt speak again that evening. But he didnt stay silent for long. A few days later, they spoke again. They started with their usual nonsense chat about Uni work, parties and so on, before Paul asked to meet again. Carol wanted to say no, but for whatever reason, she found that she couldnt. Ben had always told her that she should say it more often, but it was just part of her nature. She arranged to meet Paul at a caf in town at the weekend. She said shed be wearing a red blouse, but Paul pointed out that he knew what she looked like from her profile. Carol didnt know exactly what Paul looked like the few pictures he was tagged in were blurry or low resolution but she had a rough idea. Hed be wearing a dark green jacket. They left it at that and didnt speak again until their meet. Carol got there first, and ordered herself a coffee before taking a seat out the front. It was a lovely spring morning, just beginning to get warmer after a harsh winter. Carol was wearing exactly what shed said she would. She took care in the morning to make

herself look as good as possible. She hated her body, but most men would say she was really quite attractive especially when they were drunk. Once shed sat down, she took a pack of cigarettes out of her bag. She took the last one from the pack and lit it. She didnt smoke that often, only when she was stressed, drunk, flirting or had some time to herself to kill, but always kept a pack in her purse anyway. This pack alone had lasted her about a fortnight. Just as she was stubbing out the spent tobacco, Paul arrived. He was tall, with dark hair and a rugged face. He actually looked a bit older than Carol was expecting she assumed he would be around her age, 20, but he looked more like he was 25 or 26. I didnt know you smoked, Paul said with as he sat down. Oh. I dont, really. Is that a problem? Paul smiled. On the contrary. He took a fresh pack of cigarettes from his pocket and took off the shrink wrap before taking one for himself and offering Carol one. She accepted, although having two in quick succession was a real rarity. Hello, by the way, Paul said as he lit his cigarette before lighting Carols. Hi. Nice to finally meet you. Again. We have met before, remember. Oh. YeahSorry. The nerves must be playing with my memory! Thats OK, it happens to the best of us. We cant be expected to be elephants, can we? I suppose not! Carol said with a laugh. They talked for quite some time, practically chain-smoking cigarettes as they did so. Carol wasnt used to having so much nicotine in her system she just didnt want to seem rude when he offered her one of his - and after a little while began to feel quite queasy. Paul picked up on this pretty quickly. Are you OK, Carol? You dont look so hot. Yeah ImIm fine. No, youre obviously not. Come on, Ill take you home. No its fine, honestly. CarolI didnt want to say it like this, but Im inviting you to mine. Come on. Carol sat thinking for a moment before nodding. The pair stood and walked towards Pauls car, a red Mini. He held the door open for her as she got in before going over to the drivers side. The drive wasnt that long, but it felt forever for Carol. She just looked out the window the whole way thinking that she wanted to be sick. Paul pulled into a parking spot outside a stylish-looking block of flats, with all new brickwork and several balconies on every level. There was a large Apartments To Let sign hanging above the main entrance. It was thoroughly modern and overlooked the river at the rear. He must be loaded! Carol thought. Paul led the way in, up to the third floor. His apartment was swish, with a large living room backing onto a brand-new open-plan kitchen. The place had laminated flooring throughout and several pieces of modern art on the walls. It was spotlessly clean throughout, too. How a supposed student could afford to live in such a place didnt cross Carols mind. Make yourself at home, Paul said, before heading over to the kitchen area. Carol took a seat on the black leather sofa and laid her bag on the glass table. Paul came up from behind her a couple of moments later, making her jump a little. Oops, he said with a smile, didnt mean to startle you! He was carrying a bottle of white wine and had two glasses perched precariously in-between his fingertips like a juggler about to start his act. A corkscrew was under his arm. He set everything down and popped the cork before pouring a large glass of the alcohol and giving it to Carol. Thanks, she said, taking a gentle sip. Youre welcome. I hope its to your tastes.

Im a student. This is alcohol. Of course its to my tastes! Looks like youre feeling better now. Yeah. Think it was all the fags. I dont normally chug away that heavily. Oh, sorry, that was my fault. Not to worry. Its been a good day, relaxing, not worrying about shit. Thank you. They drank in silence for a couple of minutes. Paul broke the quiet. This is going to sound quite forward, Carol, and Im sorry for that, but I dont know how else to say it. I find you quite attractive. He blushed almost on cue. Oh, said Carol. Umthanks! Youre not so bad yourself. Uh, sorry, Ive completely embarrassed myself, havent I? No, no, dont be so stupid. Id much rather you come out and say it rather than mince around the issue all night. Wellthats nice. There was silence between them once again, before the inevitable happened once again. They gradually moved their heads closer to one another, eventually locking lips and eventually falling into a full, passionate French kiss. Not fifteen minutes later, the pair had climaxed. It had been the best sex of Carols life, and the buzz refused to go away. Paul laid next to her panting. He leant to his bedside table and picked up his cigarettes again, and offered one to Carol. No, thanks, Ive had enough for one day. I quote, Its been a good day, relaxing, not having to worry about shit. Come on, one last one wont kill you. Right away. Carol laughed and eventually took one and accepted Pauls light. After a moment of relaxation, Paul stood and walked back into the living room. Where are you going? Carol asked. Just going to get something. Ill be back in a minute. It wasnt a minute. It was ten. It had grown dark outside now, and Carol was starting to think about heading home. Finally, Paul returned. He had his hands behind his back. Oh, there you are, Carol said, I was wondering where youd got t- She was stopped in her tracks by Paul revealing what was in his hand. It was a silenced handgun, and he had it pointed right at her. Without another word from either of them, Paul pulled the trigger. The bullet penetrated Carols flesh right in the centre of her chest, plunging lead right into her heart. A dribble of blood escaped her mouth before she fell back flat on her back, dead. Im sorry, Paul said, without a hint of sincerity. He had some work to do. Chapter 2: The Human Compass The police got the call at five in the morning. The man on the line sounded as distressed as could be expected, and the operator remained calm throughout, as per her training. Police, whats the emergency? Oh, hello. Ive foundwella body. A young woman. I think shes been stabbed. Where are you? Well send someone right away. Uhits that new block of flats off Battery Road. Im not sure what its called. I was onlyI was only Stay calm sir, were on the way. Two uniformed officers, PCs Alice Smith and Dale Manners, were the first on scene. It didnt take long for them to find Carols body at all. Shed been laid out in the middle of the car park, her arm stretched out at right angles. The sun was just

starting to rise, casting a warm glow over the tarmac. Apart from the red splodge back, she could have been mistaken for alive; suffering nothing more severe than a hangover. A man wearing a light blue too-tight tee shirt and the most revealing red shorts PC Smith had ever seen was standing nearby, trying not to look at the body. Smith went over to comfort him while Manners walked over to the body. He checked for a pulse, but he knew it was a pointless endeavour. Her skin was cold to the touch. Some dried blood was stuck to her chin, like a vampire who was a messy eater, and there were traces of her lying in more. Manners pressed the button on the walkie talkie at his breast. Alpha 156 to Alpha 1. Go ahead Alpha 156. I think youre going to want to get forensics down here, Mary. Colm Reece was woken by his mobile playing the tune of Roxanne. He instantly knew it was the office. He fumbled about looking for it at his bedside, eventually finding it on the third rotation of the chorus. Hello, Reece said in his thick Irish drawl. Guv, youre up, said a middle-aged mans voice on the other end. No, no Im really not. Im afraid you are, guv. Greenus Towers, off Battery Road. Shall I send a car? No, no, its fine Tom. Ill be there in half an hour. Right you are guv. Reece hung up. Who was that? asked Olly from the other side of the bed. Work, Reece said as he swing his legs over the side. He pushed himself to his feet after a couple of tries. He was not a morning person. Dont worry. Go back to sleep. I intend to, Co. Be safe. As always. Reece headed towards the bathroom, picking up a shirt and trousers from the back of a chair on the way. Forensic techs were swarming the scene when Reece arrived. All of them were dressed in white paper coveralls and blue gloves. A tent had been erected over the body, while police tape had been erected in a fifty metre zone, essentially blocking access to the apartments. A couple of reporters had also arrived on the scene, and tried to get Reeces attention as he crossed the car park. They failed. A balding middle-aged man Tom walked over to Reece the second he noticed him. He was slightly chubby around the middle and was wearing a burgundy shirt without a tie. Guv, Tom said with a nod. Morning Tom. Thanks for the wake up call. Reece was a few years younger than Tom and had risen the detective ranks a lot faster. Although he didnt show it, Reece always had the feeling that Tom resented him for it. Whats the situation? Tom explained as they walked towards the tent. Girl, early 20s, been killed by a gunshot wound to the chest. Just the one, Kako says, but I guess well know more after a post-mortem. Witnesses? None, but she was found by a jogger this morning. Its always a jogger, Reece thought. Someone mustve heard something, its a block of flats were standing next to for Christs sake! Yeah, but guv, this place isnt even open yet. Its all for show. First residents dont move in til next week. Ive got uniform going through the whole building, looking for anything of interest. Kako reckons she was killed somewhere else and moved here; an empty flat would be perfect.

OK. Good work. Theyd arrived at the tent by now and pulled the side apart like a pair of curtains. Reece got his first look at the body. What a shame. So young. Leaning over Carols body was an Eastern looking forensic tech, in his late twenties and completely bald. He had his suits hood down and his facemask off. Kako, morning, said Reece. Morning sir. He spoke very deliberately, trying to hide his accent. What can you tell me? I expect Mr. Frazer has filled you in already. Single gunshot, from the looks of it, clearly moved post-mortem. Shes exactly as we found her. For some reason, the killer appears to have pointed her left hand due south and her right due west. Its almost as if he had a compass. An accomplice?! Tom said. No, no, a compass. You could find your way France using her hands. Anything else? Reece said. Uh, there seems to have been signs of intercourse. I cant say for certain right now, but it looks consensual from where Im standing. No struggle. Theres one other thing as well, but youre not going to like it. Kako pulled up the back of Carols shirt. Reece almost fell sick at the mere sight of what was revealed. Carved into the small of her back were three misshaped letters: MLK. Oh God, Reece and Tom said in unison. Yeah, said Kako. Another one. At that moment, PC Smith came into the tent. Sir, she said, sorry to interrupt, but we found a handbag in one of the flats. It belongs to this woman, the driving license matches. Her names Carol Matheson. Reece left the tent with Smith. Goodgood work constable. Thank you sir. Sir, are you OK? No, not really. Carol Matheson, eh? I wonder what she did to deserve this? Ben Matheson was late. As always. Five minutes ago he was in the shower, and now he was about to head out the front door. He swung it open, still buttoning his shirt, only to be stopped in his tracks by a pair of police officers stood at the door. Ben jumped as if hed just been met by a masked axe murderer. One of the cops was male, the other was female. Both were pretty young keeping up the tradition, they made Ben and his 28 years feel staggeringly ancient. Woah! Ben said, dont you people knock any more? Weve just this moment got here, sir, said the woman. Sir, are you Ben Matheson? I am. And Im late. What is it? Im afraid we have some distressing news sir. Can we come in? Ben didnt like the sounds of that. Hed seen enough episodes of The Bill and read enough crime fiction to know that distressing news inevitably meant that somebody had died. No Ben said. He knew instantly. Whats happened to Carol? Sir, can we come in? No, if youve got something to say, get it out now. The cops looked at each other glumly. Im afraid, Mr. Matheson, that your sister was found dead a few hours ago near a new development in the East End. Nno Bens legs were shaking, he felt that they wouldnt support him much longer. Whwhat Im sorry, sir, but it seems that she was murdered. Come on, lets get in and have a seat. Ben moved out of the way for the cops, but nearly collapsed as he did so. Two words kept revolving around in his head. Carol. Dead. Carol. Dead. Carol. Dead

The next week passed in a flash for all concerned. Reece was careful with the press: yes, there had been a murder, but he certainly didnt have to mention MLK. If they knew a serial killer was on the loose in London there would be uproar from both the papers and the public. That kind of hype was simply not constructive in a useful investigation. It wasnt even as if they knew that much. The only thing linking the murders was the letters MLK carved onto either the back or stomach of every victim. Every kill had been different: A young woman forced to overdose on heroin; a man being pushed off a building; another man cut in two before being dumped in a well. Releasing this information could have led to a spate of copycats, with no way of knowing what was real and what was not. Ben, meanwhile, was busy making funeral arrangements. No-one else was going to. His and Carols parents had died on 9/11 they were on a business trip together in New York. Ben was 19 and had to drop out of Uni to look after his little sister. Theyd been as close as it was humanly possible since then. And now shes gone. The funeral was a simple affair, just a graveside assembly. Carol wasnt religious in the slightest, and Ben was positively anti-religion, but a priest had to be involved at some point whatever happened. About 30 people showed. Most of them were friends of Carols friends from school and Uni, plus a few cousins and uncles and aunts who comforted Ben as the priest gave his speech. Reece was also present, alone. He didnt want a massive police assembly there, but knew that someone had to represent the force. After the service, Reece introduced himself to Ben with a firm handshake and an Im sorry for your loss. He said that hed be looking to speak to Ben over the next few days. Procedure with most investigators was to speak to family and rule them out as soon as possible, but Reece thought that seeing how much grief one was subjected to was a good way of ruling out suspects without getting in the way. He could see, and had heard, that Ben was in a very bad way indeed these were certainly not crocodile tears he was shedding. Reece thought that Ben was most likely not a suspect, but he still had to interview him anyway. Could we do it tomorrow? Ben said, holding back more tears. I have to get back to work the day after. Tomorrow it is, Mr. Matheson. Ill be round at about 12, if that suits? Fine, yeah. I dont know how much help I can be but if it helps you catch the bastard who did this to my sister then Ill talk as long as you need me to. OK. Ill see you tomorrow then, Mr. Matheson. Take care. Reece walked off, leaving Ben alone in the cemetery car park. Chapter 3: Lounge Talk The buzzer rang at the front door, and Ben answered it almost immediately. Hed been hanging around in the hall for the past ten minutes, waiting for Reece. Sure enough, it was the Irishman, along with Tom. Reece introduced Ben to Tom and the three of them walked through to the living room. It was a pretty small room which was made to look bigger by the great deal of light it was getting from the window. Rather than the trinkets and ornaments that most people had cluttering their homes, however, Bens living room had DVDs, books, computer games and CDs everywhere Reece looked. Pride of place was a 32 TV, which looked practically new. Contrasting the new media all over the place, the furniture and decoration in the room were practically ancient. Reece thought it couldnt have been decorated for a good 20 years. He and Tom took a seat on one of

the two orange sofas. Can I get you a drink? Ben said. Tea, coffee? Thatd lovely. Milk and one for me, black and two for Tom, Reece said. Ben nodded and went back into the hall. Tom poked around the room, checking out a few of the DVDs, commenting on some of them. Pulp Fiction! I havent seen this in years! Hes got some good ones here, Guv. Well, yes, Tom, Id imagine that there probably are some good ones. I wouldnt have thought hedve bought so many and have them all turn out to be crap. Ben came back a moment later holding two cheap china mugs. He handed them out before taking a seat on the other sofa. Sorry for the mess, Ben said. That was always Carols job, organising all my stuff for me. On the other hand, she hated cleaning stuff, whereas Ive always got the Hoover out. Wecomplemented. He spoke very quickly, rushing to get the words out, and perhaps not fully thinking before opening his mouth. Im sorry for your loss, Tom said. Thanks. No offence, but Id rather you and your lot stop saying that every time you see me. Im sure there wasnt anything you could have done to help Carol, so why should you be sorry? I know its just a figure of speech butand now Im rambling. Sorry, I tend to do that when Im nervous. Not a problem. Lets get started, shall we? Ben nodded. When was the last time you saw your sister? Three or four weeks ago. She came home for the weekend from Uni. She only goes, uh, sorry, went, to Brunel but living away from home gave her a bit of independence, yknow? I suppose kids of that age all want it, said Tom. Yeah. I was the same. I wanted to get as far away from here as possible, but that got scuppered when our parents died. Reece very nearly said Im sorry again, but caught the words in his throat like a fish in a net before he could get the words out. How did she seem? Reece said instead. Fine. Normal. She was never exactly the most bubbly and outgoing of people, but she wasnt exactly a recluse either. She was justfine. Any boyfriends that you know of? There was a boy when she was in Sixth Form, Jake somethingorother, but no-one since then as far as I know. I think she was always more interested in getting Uni stuff done than anything else. She didnt even have a part-time job. Very studious then. Yeah. Ever since her GCSEs. OK, said Reece. I only asked that because there were signs of sexual intercourse both on Carols body and in the flat we believe the murder took place. He raped her?! Ben said No, it would seem to be consensual. Youre sure she didnt have a boyfriend? No, not to my knowledge. Im sure she would have told me if she did, we werewe were very close. In that case then, said Tom, have you got any idea of whod want to do this to Carol? No, said Ben, absolutely not. Shed never done anything wrong, never done anything to hurt anyone, neverit just doesnt make sense. Ben nearly broke down again, but kept his composure. Seeing his distress, Reece and Tom kept quiet for a moment, sipping their drinks. Is there anything else? Ben said, his voice stammering slightly. Itd be handy if we could have a look in her room, if youd be alright with that, Reece said.

Oh, yeah, sure. Follow me. They did, along the hallway, and into a room at the far end. It had obviously been decorated much more recently than the living room or indeed the hall. It was a pale pink with a light carpet. A few family photos and posters of bands like Green Day hung onto the wall, while some cuddly toys were scattered into the various corners. One, a large monkey bigger than a toddler, was sat on the bed. There were no signs of life, however the wardrobe door was hanging open, empty, whilst the desk was completely clear. I suppose Carol took most of her stuff to Uni with her? asked Tom. You suppose right. I think youd be best of checking her room there. Ill get you the address in a minute. Reece looked at his watch, even though he didnt really care what the time was. Well, he said, Im afraid that were going to have to be getting off now, Mr. Matheson. Youve been very helpful, thank you for your hospitality. Oh. Is that it? Youve only been here half an hour or something. All the same, its been useful to us. Can we have that address? Yeah, sure. Ben led them down the hallway to the door. Next to it was a small table with some papers and a phone. Ben took a blank sheet of paper and wrote Carols Uni address on it before giving it to Reece. Thanks again Mr. Matheson. Well be in touch as soon as we can tell you something else. OK. Thanks for everything. Good hunting. Im sorry? said Tom. Oh, uh, I said good hunting. Isnt that what you all say to each other when youre looking for a- This isnt CSI, Mr. Matheson. Iuhwellsorry. Reece smiled a little. Dont worry about it. I kinda like it. Good hunting. Come on Tom, weve got to get back. Reece opened the door and the pair stepped out. Ben was just about to close the door behind them when Reece piped up. Oh, one more thing, Mr. Matheson. Does the acronym MLK mean anything to you? Um, said Ben, thinking. I dont think so. Why? Oh, said Reece, no real reason. Ive just been seeing it everywhere recently and thought you might be able to help. Not to worry. Thanks again. Reece and Tom walked off as Ben shut the door behind them. He leant against the door and closed his eyes. MLK. It does ring a bell. He went back into the living room to ponder on it. Chapter 4: One Lens Binoculars A few days later, Ben was called by a police officer. Her name was DC Kate Walsh. As soon as she said the letters DC Ben got excited. He thought that they might have arrested somebody, might be one step closer to finding Carols killer. But the conversation was nothing of the sort. Ben, Kate said, Im going to be your liason officer throughout the case. Im sorry its taken me so long to get in touch with you but... Id hope youve been looking for the man who killed my sister. Yes, exactly that. I tried to call yesterday but there was no answer. I went back to work yesterday. Anyway, not meaning to be rude, what are you calling for? A couple of reasons. The first was just to introduce myself. But probably more importantly, weve got some of your sisters possessions her laptop, some books, that sort of thing that weve looked at and are ready to give back to you. You can swing by the station later on if you want, or I could drop them round to you this evening.

Thatd probably be easier, DC Walsh, I dont have a car at the moment. OK. Ill be round at about 6 this evening then. Thanks. Bye. Ben hung up and carried on with his game of Halo. He was still playing when the buzzer rang at five to six that evening. A plain-clothes police officer (Ben thought that she had a police look about her) with short brown hair stood before him. She was carrying a large brown paper bag with a string handle. DC Walsh? Ben said. The very same, Kate said. And you must be Mr. Matheson. Ben, please. Come in. He led her into the living room. She too was taken aback by the amount of media that was strewn everywhere. Wow, she said, youve got a lot of DVDs! Yeah, Ben said, a little embarrassed. Can I get you anything? No, Im fine thanks. Here. Kate handed Ben the bag, which was surprisingly heavy. Ben didnt think that shed have been able to lift it. He took a look inside as he sat down. It contained a laptop, a mobile phone, a few clothes and some other bits and bobs. Surely this isnt everything that was in her room? No, just the things that we wanted to look at for the investigation or that she had on her when Yeah. OK. I get it. Thank you, anyway. Did you find anything? I cant really discuss aspects of the case with you Ben. Sorry. Oh. Sure, OK. They talked for a while, and eventually Kate gave Ben her number if he ever wanted to get some information on something or just needed someone to chat to, shed be available. He showed her out, and Ben decided to boot up Carols laptop. He thought itd be a good idea to shut down her online accounts, if he could hack into them, since she certainly wouldnt be needing them any more. The laptop itself wasnt password protected, much to Bens shock. Hed always told her that computer security was just as important as home security, but obviously shed ignored him. Probably not for the first time. He booted up Internet Explorer and went onto Facebook. All the while it had been booting up, Ben had been trying to think of passwords Carol might have used for her accounts. It turned out that he didnt need to: it was set to auto sign in. Ben smiled and shook his head. He saved all the pictures onto the hard drive and then deleted the account. He pondered for a moment about clicking the confirmation button, wondering if it were the right thing to do. He decided, in the end, to keep it open as a sort of memorial to her. Ben wasnt sure of what other sites Carol would have been on. He thought about Twitter, but then remembered her telling him that it was pointless. He figured the easiest way to find out would be typing her name into Google. Carol had a relatively unusual name, but she tended to use her middle name, Saoirse, in everything from signing off letters to Internet profiles. It made finding the right Carol Matheson a damn sight easier. As expected, very little showed up. There was an old Bebo account that shed set up when she was 14 and hadnt been on for several years. He had a go at hacking the account and got in pretty swiftly with the password billiejoe1. He shut it down with far less remorse than her Facebook. The Google search didnt bring up much else in the way of online accounts. There were only four search pages, mostly filled up with bits of news off her Uni and schools websites. But there was one anomaly. It was a site called One Lens Binoculars. The site was professionally designed with a light coloured background and modern font. Carols name was mentioned in a blog section called stories. It was a couple of thousand words long and pretty well

written. But Ben realised very quickly that this was no mere coincidence. The story was about a girl, Carol, who met someone over Facebook who turned out to be not exactly as he had appeared. She was shot and dumped outside a new development. Bens hands began to shake as the writer went into great detail about the sex theyd had before the murder and the pain she felt as the bullet pierced her heart with the force of a bulldozer through a fencing panel. Ben closed the laptop, hyperventilating. Whatthe fuckwas that? Ben calmed down after a while. Curiosity got the better of him and he opened the laptop again. He quickly changed the page so that he wouldnt have to read another word of the story. The homepage was strange. It was completely blank, but certain areas made the page flash green for a split second after being moused over. There didnt seem to be any logic to the points that created the flash. The bottom of the page had a link back to the stories page and one more link labelled Contact. Ben clicked it. A series of text entry fields popped up on the screen instantly. There was a box for Name, Email and Message, plus a Send button. Ben felt like typing something, but couldnt bring himself to. The Stories page lured him back. The plural worried him. The one mentioning Carol was the latest, but there were several more, dating back over a year. There was a story about a young woman forced to overdose on heroin, one about a man being pushed off a building, another with another man cut in two before being dumped in a well, two women and a judge killed with a hammer and a final (first?) story about a homeless man strangled and bitten. Ben was understandably sickened. The stories were gruesome and written with a kind of sick pleasure, as though the writer were getting off on his prose as he typed. Worse, Ben recognised a couple of the more recent stories from items on the news a few weeks previously. All the deaths were different, but clearly connected. There was a serial killer on the loose, and he was practically boasting about them online. Ben went out to the phone in the hall and called Kates number. It was getting quite late now, and she took a little while to answer. Hello? she said, groggy. DC Walsh, hi, its Ben Matheson. Sorry to bother you, but Ive got something pretty important I need to tellsomeone. Chapter 5: Tyger Tyger Reece was just falling asleep when his phone rang, Roxanne again. Oh, for fucks sake, said Olly. Sorry, work, said Reece. I cant ignore it. I know, I know, but Jesus Christ, one night off, is that so much to ask? Probably. Reece finally answered. Hello? Guv, said Kate, Sorry to disturb you but I thought youd want to know this. Well come on then Kate, let me have it. Ive just had Ben Matheson on the phone. He says hes discovered some important information about his sisters murder. He says he thinks he knows how to find her killer. Oh, does he now. Well jolly good for him. Hes certainly not the first and he wont be the last family member who has their suspicions about, I dunno, the postman or something. This is a touch different sir. I really think he might be on to something. Kate, I dont want to sound rude, but could you just tell me already? I was rather hoping Id be able to get some sleep tonight.

I wasnt, said Olly with a smirk. Sorry, guv, said Kate. Mr. Matheson claims hes discovered a website which goes into great detail about the case of his sister and several others. It even mentions MLK. Reece sat straight up in bed at the mention of those three little letters. WHAT?! I know. Theres no way that That he could have known about that. Thisthis doesnt make sense, Kate. Can you call Matheson back and get him to head to the station? Ill meet him there. If you could come along too itd be handy. Ugh, OK guv. See you soon. Thanks Kate. He hung up and got out of bed for the second time that day. No sleep? said Olly. Not tonight. Dont wait up. He pecked Olly on the cheek and left the room holding a pair of jeans and a shirt. All three arrived at the station within five minutes of each other. Ben was first, followed by Kate, then Reece. The door was locked, and it was a cold night. Ben was shivering by the time Reece swiped his card in the slot next to the door like a checkout operator. The station was remarkably quiet. Ben always imagined that a police station would be a hive of activity all day round, but no, there was not a single noise from anywhere nearby. Reece swiped his card no less than three times on the way to the CID incident room. Security was certainly tight. The incident room was much smaller than Ben had imagined. Hed thought it would be around the size of a school hall; it was in fact more of a classroom. A couple of whiteboards with random illegible scribbles sat on light blue walls. Desks were situated around the edges there was perhaps enough space for six detectives all told. There were two doors: the one theyd all just walked through, and one marked DCI COLM REECE. Reece instructed Ben to pull up a chair whilst he booted up a computer. They sat in a rough, close circle in the empty centre of the room. Now, said Reece, from what DC Walsh here has told me, youve found a website with details about your sisters murder on it. Is that correct? Yeah. Well, not just hers, several others as well. Theres some fucking intricate stuff on there, if youll excuse my tongue. Its sick. Im also told it contains some information which was sensitive to the investigation. Things we havent released to the media. MLK, Ben said. Reece shuddered. These murders that have been happening recently are all linked, arent they? Reece looked at Walsh, as if for support. Yes, Mr. Matheson. Wed appreciate if you didnt let that information leave this room. It wont, detective, dont worry. Ill have to take your word on that, Mr. Matheson, so I hope you dont let me down. Anyway, this whole thing leads me to only a couple of possible conclusions. 1: that the murderer is boasting about his triumphs online, which I find unlikely. 2: that this is all just a huge coincidence, which is also highly unlikely. 3: that you yourself created this website after my vague mention of MLK in our conversation earlier in the week. Ben motioned to protest, but was stopped by Reece. But I find that highly unlikely also. Dont worry, Mr. Matheson, you have never been and remain not a suspect. However, that still leaves us with two conclusions which are equally unlikely. By this time, the computer had finally booted up. Reece put in his username

and password. A second or two after he did so, a browser window popped up, the homepage being the stations intranet. What did you say the site was? Reece asked. It was something completely random. Try typing One Lens Binoculars into Google. Reece ignored Ben and typed onelensbinoculars.com into the address bar. He typed slowly and deliberately, looking at the keyboard for no less than a second between each keystroke. After what felt like an eternity, he finally pressed Enter, only to be greeted by a Page Not Found error. Why didnt that work? Reece asked. Oh for goodness sake, said Kate. Let Mr. Matheson do it, for the benefit of our sanity. Reece tutted and scooted his wheeled chair out of the way of the computer. Ben touch-typed his way to Google and quickly the site itself without even thinking, which now looked somewhat different. Rather than being completely blank with a few links at the bottom, the homepage now had a chunk of writing on it. Wait, Ben said, This is new. It wasnt here earlier. The three of them read the text in silence. Please help me. My name is Ben and my sister has gone missing. I havent seen her in weeks, and I think she might be dead. The only clue I have are the letters MLK, and those dont seem to be of any use at all. I think whoever is doing this wants to be caught. Why else would they be taunting me? I got this email earlier. Tyger! Tyger! burning bright, oh you have gift me such a fright. Police and all your fearful clan, come and catch me if you can. Its a challenge. It must be. But I dont know what to do. Oh, could you please help me? After theyd finished reading, Reece and Kate looked at Ben, who was just as flabbergasted as them. Pre-empting their questions, he said, This has nothing to do with me! Is this what you were talking about on the phone? said Kate. No. Look. Ben scrolled down the page, activating a couple of the green flashes as he did so, and clicked on the Stories link. He went to the other side of the room as he allowed the detectives to read the details. He was called back after about ten minutes. I cant quite believe it, said Reece. There are some stories on here we dont even know about. They could have been anywhere in the country, anywhere in the world. We need to get this crazy bastard, and soon. Thank you for bringing all this to our attention, Mr. Matheson. We can take it from here. The doors will open freely going out. Good night. Oh. Right. OK then, Ben said. Are you sure there isnt- No no, this is a police matter. Try to put it out of your mind. Easy for you to say, Ben thought, but nodded, stood, and left the room anyway. He went home and straight to bed it was the early hours of the morning by now. Reece and Kate, however, stayed behind. There must be something wrong with me, Reece said as soon as Ben was on his way down the corridor. What do you mean, guv? Kate said. If youd have asked me yesterday if Ben Matheson were a suspect in this case, Id have said no, definitely not. But nowIm not quite so sure, Kate. You think he could have murdered his own sister like that? And then post the details of that killing online for the world to see? And then literally show it to us? Sir, thats a bit farfetched. This whole thing is a bit farfetched, Kate. For all we know, him showing us this site couldve just been a double bluff. I think we need to keep a very close eye on him over the next few days, see what he gets up to.

Spy on him? Dont we need a warrant for that kind of thing? I dont mean it quite like that. Just go and visit him at work tomorrow or something, maybe slyly speak to a couple of his colleagues. If you say so guv. Do you mind if I get home now, Im meant to be on the early shift tomorrow. Yeah, of course, get going. And dont worry about coming in first thing, just spend the day checking up on Matheson. Alright. Night boss. With that, Kate stood up, put her chair back in place, and left the office. Reece stayed a little longer, playing about on the site, doing almost exactly the same as Ben had done earlier. He, however, did, write a message on the Contact page. It was somewhat blunt and to the point. You may think this is a game, but its not. This is a horrible reality. I will find you. He followed the message up by including his phone number. Then he switched the computer off and went home to Olly, who was fast asleep. He slid in beside him, and waited for darkness to come. Chapter 6: Cold Calls Ben woke up only a couple of hours after his eyes closed. He shouldve been completely wrecked, but he felt more with it than he had done since Carols murder. He went through his morning ritual (despite the fact he didnt have to go to work for another few hours) and eventually plonked himself down in front of the Mac computer in his bedroom. In an OCD-like manner, he went through his usual bunch of websites: social networks, a couple of film and video game forums, blogs, his email account and the like. He hadnt received a lot of emails since he last logged on they were mostly spam and mailing lists that he didnt really care about but one message in particular caught his eye. There was no subject, but the sender was OLB. One Lens Binoculars, Ben instantly thought. He clicked it. The message that filled the screen was the very one that Reece had written from the CID room last night, but Ben didnt know that. Instead, he assumed that it was the killer who had written it, and that he was threatening him. How the hell did he get my address? Ben thought, distressed. If he knew that, what else could he know? There was a phone number along with the message, and Ben pondered whether to ring it or not. He eventually decided to. His heart was palpitating and his fingers were shaking as he typed the code into his landline. Meanwhile, Reece was deep in a dream. It was a very strange dream, where he was being chased through a house by a man in a mask wielding a knife. Everything was a bit of a blur as he ran through a nondescript family home which seemed to go on forever. Eventually he found refuge in the living room, and sat on the sofa. When after a second, the whole room exploded with sound, and Reece had the sensation of falling backwards, of being eaten by the sofa. Then he woke up with a start, his mobile playing the tune of Get Back. Oh, for fucks sake, said Olly, Its five in the morning! And its not work said Reece. He wiped the sweat from his brow with his wrist before answering. Hello? he said. Ben recognised the thick Irish drawl instantly, and immediately hung up. What the fuck? Is heno, surelyChrist. Reece was frustrated beyond belief by the dead line, and very nearly threw his phone against the wall. He saved himself at the last minute. Bastards! he said. Who was it? Olly asked.

I dont know. Probably some call centre in India that havent got their time zones right or something. Fucking hell. Im going to ring them back. No, dont Colm, lets just go back to sleep. Im wide a-fucking-wake now. He looked through his phones call history, only to discover that the caller was most certainly not in India: it was a local number, but one he didnt recognise. He pressed the call button. Bens phone started ringing shortly after hed put it down. Shit, he thought. He did not pick the phone up. Thank God I dont have an answering machine. After giving it about ten rings, Reece hung up. Fuckers, Reece said. Im going to fucking trace that number as soon as I get into the office tomorrow. Dont cause more trouble than you need to, its probably just kids. Even if it is, I dont give a shit. Calm down Colm, its not the end of the world! I fucking know that Ol, who the hell do you think I am?! Fuck this. Reece got up and pulled on some trousers and a shirt before heading out the bedroom door. He slammed it as he left. After the phone finally stopped ringing, the flat seemed eerily quiet, provoking a sensation for Ben of leaving a very loud disco. The only noise was the faint hum of his computers fan in the next room and some distant cars. Ben took a deep breath and made himself some breakfast. Reece arrived at the station an hour and a half after he stormed out on Olly. He had had the time to think. He felt bad; hed taken it out on his partner, even though he had nothing to do with it. He had gone for a walk, eventually buying breakfast in a run-down caf around the corner from the station. He was trying to watch his weight, but the lure of baked beans was too much of a struggle to avoid, especially since he was so tired. He was one of the first to arrive at the station. There were a few un-uniformed uniforms going in to start their shift, and one more was sat at the front desk looking like he was about to drop off, but beyond that the place was empty. The first thing Reece did when he reached his office in the incident room was to boot up his computer while he grabbed a coffee from the machine. When it was done, he found the criminal database and put in the number that had called him. There were no matches. Shit. Hed have to go and speak to one of the records officers about that, but they wouldnt be in yet. He decided to go down and wait. If he didnt do it now, hed probably lose interest. He was hanging around for about half an hour before someone showed up. It was a young female uniformed officer who yawned as she opened the door. She jumped as she saw Reece sat at a desk. Oh! she said. Sorry I wasnt expecting anyone No need to be sorry, I just need someone to do a job for me and I thought Id get here early. But I think Ive been a little too hasty! Anyway, would you be able to quickly run a phone number for me? I appreciate its early but it could be very important to a case Im working. Uh, yeah, sure, the PC said. She started up her computer. Itll just be a minute, sir. No problem, officer? Clayton, sir. Reece waited in silence until the computer could load the necessary information. This being the third time hed had to wait for a computer to load in less than twelve hours, he made a note to have a word with one of the IT technicians. Whats the number? said PC Clayton. Reece told her. It wasnt long before the

information Reece was after popped up. That cant be right Reece thought after seeing Bens name and correct address on the screen. How did hethe site! Reece rushed out of the room, saying a quick thank you to PC Clayton as he did. I think Mr. Mathesons got some explaining to do, he thought. He arrived in the CID incident room a moment later. A couple of detectives a bald black man in his thirties and a white woman with greying hair in her fourties were milling about, waiting typically for their computers to load and sipping cups of coffee. Morning, guv, they said in unison. Morning, Nick, Maggie said Reece, breathless. I need you two to go out and bring in Ben Matheson. Now. Ben Matheson, guv? said Nick. I thought you said he wasnt I know what I said, Nick. And now Im saying that we need to talk to him more formally. Get in him cuffs, ASAP. The detectives symmetrically took big glugs of coffee before leaving the incident room. Reece went back into his office, and picked up the phone. Nick and Maggie were climbing the stone staircase that led to Bens flat. He lived on the third floor of a large tower block which looked as though it could have been home to hundreds of people with ASBOs. However, it was a surprisingly well-kept building, and the police very rarely got called in for anything. There was the odd bit of graffiti which popped up some nights like a rash, and the darker corners were still a place where someone could remain unseen, but generally it was in a much better nick than most. Maggie was breathless by the time they got to Bens level, on the fifth floor. Nick was alright he liked to keep himself fit, so a few stairs were no trouble. You OK, Mags? Yeah ImOK justlet me get mybreath back. Nick chuckled a little and after a few seconds of recuperation, they walked along the path that was almost like a balcony. It overlooked a patch of green below but mostly the high-rise concrete of other towers in the middle distance. The Egyptians gave the world the pyramids, said Maggie, and weve given it grey bricks of shit. Hardly fair is it? No, but I guess someones got to leave their mark! Every door in the block looked identical a chipped red with a silver letterbox and B&Q quality handle, so it took the pair a little while to find Bens. Eventually they found it: 518. Nick rapped heavily on it. He waited a moment before doing it again. Mr. Matheson, this is the police, please open the door. He knocked again to no response. Ben had already left. Like Reece, he felt that a walk before work to clear his head would be the best idea. He went to a nearby park and, after going around the perimeter without even really noticing, he parked himself on a bench. He stared at the early morning sky and listened to the spring breeze. Then he heard a voice. Hello. It was a voice he recognised, and immediately looked to where it had come from. Carol?! Ben said. It was, indeed, his sister. He stood and went to hug her, but she backed away. I dont think thats a great idea Ben. People are going to think youre mad. What do you mean? Hugging someone thats not there. I am dead, remember? Dejected, Ben sat back down. This is all in my head, isnt it? Might be, Carol said, taking the seat next to him. Whos to know? Why are you here? Youre the one who brought me here. So really, the why is up to you. Ben sat in silence for a moment. Who killed you Carol? Please tell me.

I cant, dummy. But Ill say that youve overlooked something pretty significant. Something that was staring you in the face. You can find him, and you need my help, but Im not going to tell you. What does that mean? It means that youre looking like an unwashed loony talking to yourself on a park bench when a dog walkers about to come by. Ben looked in the other direction. Sure enough, there was. He turned back to speak to Carol and she was gone. What the fuck is wrong with you, Ben? he thought to himself. Talking to your dead fucking sister. You need a holiday. Ben stood and realised that at least one thing Carol had said was true. He stunk. He still had a little time before he had to be at work, so headed back towards the flat. Nick and Maggie had pulled away less than a minute before Ben arrived back at his flat. Nick had wondered if they should break the door in, but Maggie pointed out that a) that would be illegal and b) there was a good chance Ben had simply left for work. So that was where they had headed. Ben, completely unaware of the low scale manhunt that was going on for him, simply unlocked the door to his flat, went in and took a quick shower. Whilst washing, a thought hit him. Something that Carol had said in the park was playing on his mind. Youve overlooked something pretty significant. Something that was staring you in the face. You can find him, and you need my help, but Im not going to tell you. What could it be? He ran through the chain of events. Carol had been murdered by some man. Theyd had consensual sex, so she must have known him, but Ben didnt know anything about a boyfriend. The killer was using the Internet to, essentially, boast about his crimes. There was a link there somewhere, but Ben didnt The Internet! What if she met him on Facebook? Ben finished washing as quickly as he could before jumping out and booting up his sisters laptop again. He had forgotten all about work. Chapter 7: Playing The Game Nick and Maggie arrived at Saturn18 Comics, the store that Ben worked in. It was a small, independent comic book shop which sat right in the middle of a parade of shops on a main road. The shop had just opened for business by the time the detectives got there. The place was something of a geek Mecca. Every conceivable space was used to put something in. Rows of shelving along the back and side wall housed hundreds of comic books and graphic novels. Shelving in the centre of the room held memorabilia and toys. Hanging from the ceiling were even superhero-themed beanbags and back packs. There was barely enough room to walk around. A counter was situated right by the door. A thin man with shoulder length brown hair was sat behind it. He nodded at the detectives as they walked in. Good morning, said Nick, Im DC Tallman and this is DC Chambers. They flashed their warrant cards. We were wondering if we could have a word. Uh, yeah, sure. But I mean, everythings in good order, I dont think Ive done anything wrong. No need to be so defensive, said Maggie. We just want some information on Ben Matheson. Ben? Oh, is this about his sister? Poor guy, I really feel for him. Has Mr Matheson come in today? Not yet, he should be here pretty soon though. Hes only been back a couple

of days. What does Ben do here? said Nick. General stuff, really. Puts stuff out on shelves, serves customers, organises new deliveries, that kind of stuff. And what about you, Mr? Mann. I know, which one, right? Mr Tickle, Mr HappyBut cant help who your parents are I suppose. Anyway, sorry, Im the owner, for my sins. I do more-orless the same kind of thing Ben does, but mostly Im here at the till. Has he seemed a bit unusual to you recently, Mr. Mann? Maggie asked. Apart from the whole sister being murdered thing, you mean? I dont know really. As I say, hes only been back here a short while, and I went round his flat one evening, but thats it really. I know hes taken it badly though. He was always talking about Carol. OK, said Maggie. Thanks. Do you mind if we just wait here until Mr. Matheson arrives? No problem. Even less of a problem if you buy something! They didnt. Ben had logged onto Carols Facebook again, thankful now that he hadnt deleted the account when hed had the chance. He looked on her Wall at her recent activity and found that a couple of weeks before shed been killed she had added a Paul Freeman as a friend. Ben had never heard of him, but that didnt necessarily mean that he was guilty. He followed a link to Freemans page. The account hadnt been used since Carols murder, which immediately raised his suspicions. On top of that, he was in luck to find a fair bit of personal information on his profile, like a phone number and even his address. Apparently, he lived somewhere in Wales that Ben had never heard of. Ben couldnt shake the feeling that he was on to something. He went out into the hall and dialled the Freemans phone number. What he heard next chilled him to the bone. What do you mean you cant find him?! Reece asked his detective constables. They had rarely seen him so angry. We checked his flat first, said Nick, then his shop, then we drove through as many routes as we could between the two and he was nowhere to be seen. Hes vanished into thin air. Impossible. Go back out and dont come back until youve got him in bracelets. Guv, with all due respect started Maggie I dont want to hear it! Get back out there now. At that moment, the officer Reece had seen at the front desk early that morning came knocked on Reeces door. What is it? Reece shouted. Apologies for interrupting, sir, but theres a man downstairs who says he wants to talk to you. Im not interested unless his name is Ben Matheson. Actually, sir Ben was taken to an interview room immediately, but wasnt technically arrested. He was carrying his sisters laptop under his arm. An officer tried to take it off him, but he stubbornly held onto it. A moment later, Reece came into the room, his face boiling with rage. He very nearly pushed Ben, but held himself back. Sit down, he said with force. Ben did as he was told. Reece took position opposite and Tom stood behind him. What were you doing, Mr. Matheson, at five oclock this morning? Reece asked.

I was calling your mobile number. But And how did you get my mobile number? I was just going to come to that, if you gave me half a chance. He opened up Carols laptop, which had been on standby, and waited for the Internet to connect. Hed plugged in a mobile broadband USB stick before leaving the flat. I dont have time for your games, Mr. Matheson. I understand that, inspector, and I think I know what your theory is. But its wrong, and whats on this laptop will exonerate me. Ben clicked his way to his email account. He opened the email hed received containing Reeces phone number. You sent this using the One Lens Binoculars site last night, didnt you? said Ben. Reece skimmed it. Yes. And the fact that you have it leads me to believe- -that I killed my sister. Well, would it surprise you to learn that when I read the message and heard you on the line that I thought you were the murderer? Preposterous, said Tom. I know, but thats how it seemed. The killer is playing games with us, trying to turn us against each other. Ive been doing a bit of work of my own this morning, and I think Ive got a theory. Reece sighed. He clearly didnt really care, but asked Ben to tell the tale anyway. Ben told Reece that he had reason to believe this Paul Freeman character was the killer, or at least had something to do with it. So he called the number on his profile and heard a recorded message. In the interview room, Ben did it again, pulling out his mobile, dialling, and putting the message on speakerphone. Hello Ben, it said in a robotic voice, Youve done poorly so far. You and Reece. All of this could have been sorted out days, weeks ago, but no. And then maybe Carol wouldnt have died. Im not sorry for that, by the way, she was just a whore who didnt know any better. Perfect fodder. Ben, the only way youre going to get me is to play my game. Play it, and play it well, and everything will turn out fine. But make one slip up, or get ideas above your station, and another will die. Simples. Catch me if you can. Then, said Ben, I decided to go back to the One Lens Binoculars site. This is what happened. Ben brought up the page on the laptop and showed it to Reece and Tom. Underneath the Tyger Tyger message, there was a collection of jumbled up letters. Whats that, a code? Tom asked. I think its more likely to be a cipher, but essentially yes. I havent cracked it yet, though. But I think that this is a clue. This killer is obviously trying to be caught, he wants it. But more than that, he wants people to take part in his game. And you think this Paul Freeman could be that killer? said Reece, clearly uninterested. Frankly, I dont know. He could be, but then again the real killer could just be pulling the wool over our eyes. Paul Freeman might not even exist for all we know. We? said Reece. Since when did you become a detective? Well, I said Ben, confused slightly. You didnt, did you. All of this is unbelievable. Completely unbelievable. What youre basically saying is that theres a serial killer out there who wants to be caught and is even helping us to that end. It makes. No. Sense. But, Mr. Matheson, some of what youre saying sounds more legit than others. Ill send a team over to Wales immediately to see what we can find out about this Paul Freeman. And Im not going to be arresting you. As crazy as it is, I think I believe your story about inadvertently calling my number. But let me make it clear, Ben, in no uncertain terms that this case is mine and rests in the hands of the police service. If I find out youve

been sticking your nose where it doesnt belong again, then there will be hell to pay. Understood? Ben nodded, and was outwardly polite, but was cursing inside. Excellent, Reece said. Were also going to need to re-confiscate that laptop. It clearly has vital information pertaining to the case which we failed to pick up last time. Ben motioned to complain, but was stopped by Reece. If you refuse to hand over the computer, well arrest you for impeding an active police investigation. And Im sure I saw a couple of dodgy DVDs in your flat the other day. Weve got plenty to hold you on, mark my words. Tom here will escort you out. Come on, said Tom. Ben remained seated for a moment longer, just staring at Reece. Eventually, he conceded defeat and stood. Tom held the door open for him, and Ben walked before him into the corridor. Once he was outside, Ben took his frustration out on a lamp post, hurting his hand quite badly after a solid punch. Unsure of what to do next, but determined that this wasnt going to be the end for his investigation, he headed towards home. Chapter 8: Broken Images Ben didnt make it home. Instead, he stopped off at an Internet caf. It was cramped and stank of stale coffee but would do the job. After ordering himself a, he hoped, rather more fresh cup of coffee, he took a seat at a vacant machine. The connection was quite slow, but it did what he needed it to. He went onto the One Lens Binoculars website, to find it unchanged. He was thankful of this. He printed off a copy of the homepage with its cipher and shoved it in his pocket. Hed work it out later. He went onto Google and typed in One Lens Binoculars. Of course, the site was the top hit, but there were several others as well. Are these new? Ben thought to himself. He couldnt have missed them, surely? The second hit led to an online forum called UnFiction, which seemed vaguely familiar to Ben. It seemed to be a game discussion site. Ben was shocked to find out that there were several people on there talking about One Lens Binoculars as though it were genuinely a game. These people are mad! Ben thought. He read through the thread which discussed the game. The thread was started by a person calling themselves Freeman which, of course, could either have been a clue or simply a coincidence. Regardless, it seemed as though the players had been doing their own kind of investigation to discover what was going on. They had already managed to solve the cipher, making Ben feel a bit silly. The deciphered message said: Ben, who aint ten, keep it up. Eyes on the prize. MLK. HP. Ben didnt know what to make of it. It didnt seem to be a great amount of help. Although it did remind him of something what was MLK? Before he checked it out, Ben decided to have a look at the source code of the One Lens Binoculars site. Although he was terrible at coding, he at least knew that a site designer or programmer could hide a message in the source code without having it impact on the site itself. Ben was not surprised to find that there was a message, but that it was simply MLKMLKMLKMLKMLKMLKMLKMLKMLKMLK Right, Ben thought. Ive had enough of this shit. He went back to Google and typed MLK in. The search came up with hundreds of links relating to Martin Luther King. Everything from biographies, to his speeches, to pictures, to random slash stories also featuring Malcolm X. Ben checked out every single link for as long as he could when the caf closed for the night - studying the pages in the hope that they could give him some

help. But, eventually, he conceded that there was nothing of any real use. He decided to head back to the flat and continue on his own computer. He knew something was different as soon as he walked through the door. It was just a feeling. Someone else had been here, and recently. Ben glanced in the living room. Still a tip, nothing unusual there. His bedroom was the same. Carols old bedroom, the bathroom and the kitchen were the same. That was every area of the flat accounted for. But he still had the feeling. He switched his computer on. It loaded fine, and everything seemed as it normally did. He went on the One Lens Binoculars site. The home page had gotten a fair bit longer. Above the Tyger message and the cipher was a picture. It was of Bens living room. Ben stood instantly and ran to the living room. He scanned every nook and cranny, looking for something out of place. There was nothing out of the ordinary whatsoever. This is getting too fucking much, Ben thought. He presumed that the killer was merely trying to taunt him, to prove that he knew where Ben lived, that he could get to him if he so wanted to. But, for whatever reason, had done absolutely nothing. Ben immediately thought about calling the police, but would it have done any good? Ben surmised that it probably would have just been a waste of time and phone money. Hed need to sort this out himself. Ben went into the kitchen, poured himself some cold, and went back to his computer. It was time to get to work. Reece had sent Tom and Maggie on a trip. Nick and Kate were told to remain behind. The trip was to Wales, the village of Wrottin Powys, the home of Paul Freeman. The task was simple: find out information on him. The trip had not been without incident. First of all there was an argument about who should drive. Tom eventually pulled rank to win the contest, but it was a result Maggie was not exactly thrilled with. She felt Tom to be a terrible driver. This was compounded when he missed the right junction on the M25 and ended up heading towards Birmingham. They managed to get back on track after a few miles of Maggie practically shouting at him. Then, Tom insisted on stopping practically every hour to go to the loo, despite the fact that they hadnt had anything to drink since leaving London. After the third time of him doing this, Maggie got into the drivers seat when Tom was doing his business and refused to move. Everything went fine for a while, until Maggie took a wrong turning herself, and the pair of them ended up stuck in Bristol looking for the Severn Bridge. This sent Tom into a mock-rage about women drivers, which made Maggie see red again. Once in Wales, they had to stop and ask directions several times. (You wouldnt have had the balls to do that if you were driving, Maggie said.) Eventually, they got to their destination, several hours later than they had intended to. Back in London, Reece was on the verge of checking if there were any accidents on their route. The village was small and would inadvertently be described as sleepy. It had all the staples that made village life so appealing to townies. There were two pubs the Calfs Head and The Red Anchor a post office, a small corner store, a large village green with a cricket pitch in the centre, and road signs filled with practically unpronounceable Welsh words. The population of the village was lower than 500, so there werent many residential buildings. Tom and Maggie found Llanow Road pretty quickly, in something of a reversal of fortune. The road had a few terraced houses on the outskirts of the village, which wasnt really in keeping with the villages rustic aesthetic. It was almost as if some developer had taken it upon himself to transform

the village into a small town, but lost motivation halfway through the job. Tom and Maggie traipsed up the short path of number 64s front garden and rang the doorbell. The house was in good condition, but the lawn couldve done with cutting. It wasnt long before a middle-aged lady answered. She had greying brown hair and wore thick glasses as well as a very thick purple jumper, despite the mild temperature of the day. Can I help you? she said in a broad Welsh accent. The two detectives introduced themselves and held up their ID. Youre a long way from home! We are indeed, maam, said Tom. Are you related to a Paul Freeman? Paul, yes, hes my son. Whats happened to him, have you found him? Tom and Maggie looked at each other. Can I ask your name? said Maggie. Yes, Im Irma Freeman. Please tell me, whats all this about? Do you mind if we talk about this inside? said Tom. Irma Freeman budged out of the way and lead them into the living room, which was light and airy. Tom was hit with a mild sense of dj vu when he noticed that Mrs. Freeman had as many collectable ornaments and figurines as Ben Matheson had DVDs, if not more. Everything was arranged much more neatly, however. After declining a cup of tea, the detectives struck up a conversation with Mrs. Freeman. She said that she hadnt seen her son in some time theyd had an argument a few months ago and hed packed a bag and left. He was only 17, but had always been a tearaway. Although shed been looking for him since he left, she was of the opinion that if he wanted to come back, he would. But the day she was dreading was a couple of coppers telling her that he was dead, despite never having reported his disappearance. She had no idea of where he might be. She tried calling friends and family all over the country, but no-one had seen hide nor hair of him. Hed essentially vanished from the face of the Earth. Realising that the journey had been something of a waste of time, Maggie and Tom left the village less than an hour after theyd arrived. It was getting quite late in the day, and phoned Reece with the news. He was not best pleased. However, he did concede to letting them stay in a hotel or B&B on expenses, especially since itd taken them so long to get there in the first place. Theyd told him it was bad traffic as opposed to the genuine reason. They spent the night in Bristol. After having a bit too much to drink, they had a bit of a fumble together, but nothing really happened. They promised to never speak about it again and were back to arguing about directions and the skill of each others driving in no time. Ben had been sat at his computer for almost fifteen hours straight, trying to gather some kind of useful information. He came up pretty much blank. The forum thread had gone mad with the picture of Bens living room and what it could mean. Of course, no-one except Ben and the killer (and, obviously, the police if theyd bothered to look at the site in the past few hours) knew whos room it was. Several players were trying to decipher which DVDs, games and books were visible in the picture, assuming perhaps that it was some sort of code. Ben figured that this was actually quite an interesting line of enquiry and started to do it himself. It was hard going, however: the picture was too low quality to make out smaller words and pictures, so those in the distance were a nightmare. He plugged away at it, however, and now his eyes felt like were practically dangling out of his head. He hadnt slept for at least 24 hours. The phone in the hall rang. Ben stood for the first time in hours and stretched a couple of times. He was in no rush to pick it up, but still managed to get to it before it stopped ringing. Hello? Ben said. The voice on the other end of the line was metallic, as

though it had gone through some sort of distortion, and was actually quite hard to hear. Ben couldnt even tell if it was a man or woman. Youre not very clever, Ben, it said. Ben was silent for a second. Who the fuck is this? Who do you think it is, numbnuts? You bastard. Thanks, I try. Listen, Ben, and listen well. Perhaps I have overestimated you, but I hope not. Although, when you cant even find the present I left you I do start to worry. The next is coming soon. What do you mean? About what? anything! The voice laughed. Oh, look, your subplot approaches. Ive given you far too much already. Now youre on your own. The voice hung up. Ben slammed his handset against the wall, smashing it into several large chunks of plastic and wire. Then Ben saw a shape through the frosted glass of the front door. A hand went up to the bell. Ben was wary of opening it, so put the chain on first. Kate was standing on the other side. Can I come in? she said. Chapter 8: Exhaustion Uh, yeah, said Ben. He closed the door, took off the chain and let her in. Even he thought it was an odd thing to be doing, considering that he was trying to distance himself from the police as much as possible. He offered her a drink, which she declined, and the two of them sat in the living room. I hope this doesnt sound rude, but what are you doing here, DC Walsh? said Ben. I just wanted to check in on you. I figured that you probably wouldnt have taken my DCIs news all that well. And call me Kate, please. Well, yes, Im fine. Is that all? You dont look fine, Ben. In fact, you look bloody knackered. And youve cut your hand. Whats been going on. Nothing. Now I know youre lying. Listenwe havent known each other long hell, weve only met twice but I think Im starting to understand what youre about. And if Im right, you wont have given up on your own private investigation into your sisters murder. Ben was silent. Ill take that as a yes. I wanted to say that what Reece doesnt know wont kill him. Frankly, I think hes a maniac to practically ignore your leads. He sent two guys off to Wales yesterday to try and find Paul Freeman. Its probably an alias, Ben said instantly. Not that youd know anything about that, right? Kate said this with a metaphorical nudge and wink, but in fact Ben genuinely didnt know whether the killer was using an alias or not. He just wanted to seem like he knew what he was on about. Anyway, Kate continued, Im not going to stand in your way, but you really should let us know if you uncover anything potentially important. Dont be a hero and end up getting yourself killed or something: thats certainly not going to help Carol. Im only a phone call away. Kate got up, ready to leave the room and the flat. It was still early in the day, and she had to get to the station. Thanks, Ben said. Ill keep that in mind. She flung a smile at Ben, and he very nearly blushed. He suddenly realised that he fancied her a bit. That was why hed let her in. Ben stood and showed her out, only then really thinking about what the killer for that is who he assumed it was on the phone had said to him.

Maggie, you always come back to me empty handed, said Reece. And Tom, I was expecting better of you. You didnt get a whiff of the Freeman lad. From the sounds of it, you chatted to his mother for about ten minutes and called it a day. Its completely unacceptable. If I could, guv- began Maggie. No, Im not interested. All I am interested in is finding Freeman and stopping these senseless slaughters. Get out of here. Maggie and Tom made to leave the room. Not you Tom, another minute please. Maggie alone went back to her desk next to Nick. Something happened last night, didnt it? Reece said. What do you mean, sir? I think you know what I mean. Ive seen enough couples to see that the two of you got up to something or other. With respect, guv- It is my business, actually, Tom. I have to question whether this relationshi- I wouldnt really call it a relationship, guv. Fling, then, whatever, has impeded your policework in any way. I mean, how am I to know if you finished with the Freeman woman so quickly because you were desperate for a quickie around the back of some old sheep shaggers barn? Weve known each other for years, boss, you and me. Do you really think Id let anything like that get in the way of my being able to perform my job to the best possible standard? These are hard times, said Reece. Fuck knows Ive been under plenty enough stress to think about doing something stupid. But I know my mind is all there Im focussed. I dont know whether you are or not. Are you suspending us, guv? Of course not. All hands on deck. But I will be keeping an eye on the two of you. If theres anything untoward going on, you wont get another warning. Clear? Crystal. Good. Now go and do some policework for a change, please. Goodbye, Tom. Maggie and Tom shared a knowing look as Tom closed the door to Reeces office behind him. It was only brief, as Tom crossed the room to sit as his desk. Maggie waited a beat then stood and walked over to him. Whats up? she said to him, quiet enough so that the nearby Nick wouldnt hear. He knows what happened last night, said Tom. WhatI barely know what happened last night! I know. But we cant be seen talking to each other now, hes threatened suspension. Seriously?! What the fuck has been wrong with him recently? This case. The sooner its over and done with, the better itll be for all of us, not to mention the families of the victims. Maggie walked back to her desk without another word. As she was doing so, Kate walked into the room and immediately went over to Reeces door. She knocked, and entered without waiting for a response. Morning Kate, said Reece. Whats up? Morning guv. I was just wondering if youve checked the One Lens Binoculars site this morning? No. You know my feelings on that site, especially concerning Ben Mathesons involvement. Why, whats on it? A picture, this morning. Of Wellits Ben Mathesons living room. But- Fucking hell, its getting worse. Ignore it.

Ignore it? Altogether? Sir, if you dont mind my saying- Mathesons behind that site. Im sure of it. Arrest him, then. I would throw the fucking book at him if I could, Kate. Actually, thats what you can do. Get proof that its him and Ill put a good word in with the Chief. You could make sergeant by next year. Guv, Im sorry, but I dont feel entirely comfortable doing this. I really dont think Mr. Matheson has anything to do with it. Are you seriously questioning my command? Get out. Now. Come back when youre sorry. Ifine. Kate left the office, slamming the door as she did so. Then she stormed out of the whole CID command centre. Ben was searching his living room much more thoroughly than he had done previously. Then, he had just glanced over everything trying to spot anything out of place. Now, he was looking at every DVD, game and CD case both inside and out looking for something out of the ordinary. He found nothing. Then, he shifted his attention to the books he had lying around. He scanned through every page of every book, checking for anything out of place words Tip Exxed, pages ripped out and eventually found something a little more blatant than that. Ben had an almost intimate knowledge of what he had. Sure, it might be all over the place, but he knew instantly when he picked up a book that he had never read or even bought. It was, however, a book he had heard of and had wanted to check out for some time. The book was Dexter in the Dark by Jeff Lyndsay. Ben was a big fan of the Dexter TV series which spawned from the book collection, but had never gotten around to reading the source material. The book was brand new, but for one factor: inside the front cover was a message, word processed and glued in. Ben read it. Hope you like the story. I think youll find it interesting. Yours, 42. Ben began to read the book, but he could not concentrate. It was mid afternoon by now, and Bens body was deprived of nutrition and, not to mention, sleep. He stumbled into the kitchen and put a frozen pizza in the oven, but his eyes gave way at the table before he could get it out. He was awoken by the smell of burnt pepperoni. Although it was burnt to a cinder, Ben ate it at some speed before finally heading to bed. He was asleep before his head even hit the pillow. Kate went back to the station later that evening. Most of the detectives had gone home, but Reece was still there, apparently having Googled the name Paul Freeman. She apologised for her attitude (even though, inside, she knew she was right), and he accepted, but said in no uncertain terms that she couldnt just go charging off like that in the middle of an investigation. Weve made some progress on Freeman whilst youve been gone, said Reece. Weve narrowed his location down to somewhere in Bournemouth. Everyones been on the phone all day and come up with some good stuff. For a missing person, hes been remarkably easy to find, theres evidence all over the place. Card transactions, arrests, the works. Were getting a load of CCTV footage in overnight from Bournemouth council hopefully we might be able to use that to get the bastard. Why would he be in Bournemouth? All the killings have been here, havent they? As far as we know, yeah. But the mans clearly a psycho, and besides, its easy enough to catch a train up here, do the dirty, and get back home in time for Corrie. I suppose youre right. Ill be in first thing and start looking through those tapes then, guv.

Thanks Kate, Reece said. You might as well head off, I will be myself shortly. Alright. Sorry again boss. Dont worry about it. Kate left in a much calmer fashion and headed for home. Reece powered down his computer and opened his desk drawer. He took out a brand new copy of Dexter in the Dark. He looked it over, sighed, and shoved it in his bag before heading home. Chapter 9: One Night Reece started the book as soon as he got into bed. Olly was a little confused at first. Isnt that that story about the serial killer who works for the police? he said. Sounds a bit gruesome. Didnt think it would be your kind of thing. Yeah, well, tonight it is Oliver, said Reece. Oliver? OK, now I know somethings up, and its certainly not the thing Id like to be up. Nothings up. Maybe thats part of the problem? Stuff like this usually got Reeces attention at least made him force a giggle but Olly got no response. His partners head was buried in his stupid book and he clearly didnt give a shit about Ollys needs. Fine, Olly said, before turning over pointedly and closing his eyes. In truth, Olly didnt know why he was reading it. Hed received it in the post that morning the inter-police postal service, at that with just a simple, two word message: READ THIS. Frankly, Reece didnt even particularly like crime fiction, or any fiction at all, as a matter of fact. Reading about murders was something of a busmans holiday. But if someone had gone to all the trouble of sending him this book, the least he could do was read it. He managed to get to the end of chapter 5 before the day caught up with him and he turned in for the night. Tom and Maggie couldnt keep away from each other, despite the threat hovering above their heads. If anything, that actually had opposite the intended effect. That one drunken fumble suddenly had a much bigger impact. Tom invited her back to his and, after umming and erring for a while, eventually accepted his offer. They drank wine and eventually slept together. Afterwards, Maggie went straight home to her husband. When he asked where shed been, she just fobbed him off with the case. It wasnt the first time something like this had happened, but she knew full well that he wasnt exactly the most faithful of life partners. Tom didnt have quite such a problem. His wife had left him several years ago for doing exactly what he had been doing with Maggie. In some ways, then, they were cut out for each other. Kate had no such relationship problems. She was single, and happily so, and spent practically every night with the company of the television and cider. People always commented that cider wasnt exactly the most womanly of drinks, but it was literally the only alcohol that she liked. Her favourite programmes were Holby City and The Bill, right up until it was cancelled. She was more knowledgeable on those shows than she was on the law she was sworn to uphold. Nick, meanwhile, was happily married, and had three young girls. Sure, they had the odd tiff, as every couple did, but they were never even on the verge of anything more serious than that. They had an early night. The kids had school in the morning, and Nick was supposed to get in early to start working through the CCTV footage. The entire family

slept soundly and deeply. The man stopped outside a terraced house in the south of the city. This was definitely the right place. Hed followed on behind the copper earlier in the day. What he was about to do wasnt quite right, but it was close enough. Hed bent the rules a bit previously. It wasnt quite as simple as hed imagined it would be. There was a lot to keep on top of. Anyway, tonight ought to set a fire underneath them. What a brilliant choice of words, the man thought. He walked up the path and picked the lock on the door pretty easily. For a cop, this homeowner was a bit slack with security. Perhaps they thought that they were safe, that their profession was enough to keep them and their family safe. They were wrong. The man checked every room of the house slowly and stealthily. He found two smoke detectors in the building, one on each storey, and removed the batteries without trouble. Then the man went back to his car. He went into the boot, and brought out a watering can. The man had always found the smell of petrol scrumptious, but he didnt exactly want to be anywhere near it when it went up. He went back to the house and poured some of the liquid around the lower floor a few drops at least in each room, and some going up the stairs too. He made a small river connecting all the puddles back to the front door, where he scattered the rest of the petrol. He took the can back out with him as he closed the door once more, making less than a peep. He secured the can and changed his jacket and gloves. He wanted to be absolutely sure there was no chance of incident. The majority of accidents happen in the workplace, he thought. Finally, he took a box of matches and a can of red spray paint out of the glove box of his car. He went back to the house one last time. He painted the letters MLK on the door and lit a match. He threw it through the letter box. The gas caught instantly. He was walking back to the car, his work complete, when he noticed a wheely bin next to the gate. He thought for a moment about blocking the door, but decided against it. The fire would be so intense theyd never get out the front door anyway. The man got back into his car, and drove off, just as Nick woke to the smell of smoke.

PART 2: TRENDING TOPICS

Chapter 10: Fired Nicks middle daughter, Katia, was the only member of the Tallman family to survive the attack. However, she was in a critical condition in hospital, having suffered smoke inhalation and third degree burns covering 30% of her body. She was stable, but in an induced coma. Her life would never be the same again. Reece had heard the news about Nick thanks to yet another late night phone call. Get Back played again Reece didnt know who it was and was very tempted to just ignore it. But when it rang again a few minutes later, he had no choice. Olly had been more understanding of Reeces quick exit this time. Hed only met Nick a couple of times, but he seemed like a good bloke. He certainly didnt deserve this. Hell, who did? Reece had rushed to the scene, where fire fighters were busy trying to get the blaze under control before it spread to any adjacent buildings. The family had all been recovered by the time he got there. Nick had been the one to get them all out. Although it was too late for his wife and two of his girls, his actions had undoubtedly saved Katia. He himself died from his injuries not long after placing her safely on the

lawn. When Reece realised that there was nothing he could do at the scene, he went to the Princess Royal University hospital to check in on Katia. She was being treated, but he waited. He couldnt be told much, since he was not next of kin, but found out that shed be moved to Intensive Care as soon as possible, and then probably onto a specialist burns unit off-site shortly after. He was asked if he knew of any family that could be called. He didnt, but knew that there would be some sort of details at the station. He headed there next, letting himself in through the menagerie of key card locks. He booted up a computer, and lost himself in thoughts about young Katia. She was only seven years old too young to really understand what had happened, and a whole life in front of her to come to terms with it. That long without any parents to care for her brought Reece to the brink of tears. Finally, the computer loaded and he brought up Nicks personal file. It took him a while to find really, this should have been a task for someone of a lower rank and with more experience in the software, but he managed to get there eventually. He found an emergency contact number for a woman who it seemed was Nicks wifes mother. She lived in Bromley, not a great distance away from the hospital. Reece looked at the clock. It was 4 in the morning. But she had to know. He dialled the number. It took a while before a woman with a Jamaican accent answered. Hello? she said. Oh, hi. Is this Mrs. Bramdon? Yes, it is, and its four in the morning, what do you want, Irishman? Im sorry to call you at such an hour but Im afraid I have some terrible news. My names DCI Colm Reece and Whats happened to Lydia? said the woman frantically. IIm afraid there was a fire at your daughters house tonight. A fire?! Please God no, tell me, are the children alright? Mrs. Bramdon, I reallydont know how to say this. Lydia and Nick didnt make it out in time. Only Katia did. Shes at the Princess Royal University hospital right now. Mrs Bramdon had understandably broken down in tears, but still managed to get a few words out. Oh God above. God above. How is Katia? Ive just come back from the hospital. Shes stable, but in Intensive Care. If youd like I can come and pick you up and take you to her. Oh God. Oh, yes. Yes, come right away. You know my address, Mr. Reece? I do. Ill be with you in half an hour. This might seem a bitI dont know, but you should try and stay calm and strong, for Katias sake if nothing else. Mrs Bramdon was barely functioning after hearing such news. She managed to get out a goodbye and Reece put the receiver down. He hated having to give out news like that especially over the phone. But ringing her doorbell at such a time would have probably given her even more of a fright, on top of everything else. Reece thought it was the best solution. He powered down the computer and headed outside. On the way to picking up Mrs. Bramdon, he called Kate, Tom and Maggie. He didnt care that he was talking on his phone whilst driving, or even that he was breaking the speed limit by quite some margin. He wanted to get the night over as soon as possible. His detectives met him and Mrs Bramdon at the hospital. He showed Mrs. Bramdon to the ICU and left her with one of the nurses. She was obviously distraught, and had barely said a word in the car journey beyond repeatedly mumbling a prayer. Reece gathered his detectives in the hospitals coffee shop. It was now 5 in the morning. I dont think this was an accident, he said. What do you mean? said Tom. I meant it like I said. I was at the house a while ago. Im not exactly an

expert, but that fire was fierce. We had a fire at home when I was a kid, which started when the washing machine blew a fuse. It was completely different. It was still a fire, but the one I saw this evening was obviously no accident. You cant be sure of that guv, said Kate. No. But its just a gut feeling. Ive learnt to trust my gut over the years. I guess well find out in a couple of days whether we can open a criminal investigation or not. Im going to go back to the house in the morning anyway. Shit, said Maggie. I dont think I can believe it. Nicksreally dead. I dont think any of us can believe it, said Tom. The detectives sat and drank their coffee before going their separate ways. They went home to grab breakfast and a shower and would meet at the station a few hours later. Ben slept through about fifteen hours. His neck was stiff as a board, his mouth dry as sandpaper and his stomach empty as space. It was gurgling in protest that pizza hadnt done Ben a great deal of good. Then Ben realised why he had woken up. Someone was furiously banging at the front door. Ben stayed in bed and remained as still and quiet as possible. Ben, I know youre in there, said Luke Mann, the owner of the store where Ben worked. Ben rolled out of bed and collapsed in a heap on the floor before slowly making his way along the hall to the front door. He was still fully clothed from the night before, but looked like hed had a very rough night. Ben brushed his hair back with his hands and opened the door. Luke was stood there in a Star Wars tee shirt and jeans, and looked disgusted when he finally saw Ben. Christ, whats happened to you? said Luke. Rough night, Ben said. It was a struggle to get any understandable words out. SoIm guessing you wont be coming in today? Sorry, Luke. I thought I was ready butIm not. Im just not. I dont think Id be much use to anyone coming in in this state. Ben, said Luke, I count you as a good friend. Of course I dont mind giving you more time off. But Ben, Im only giving it to you on the condition that you will come back. If you dont think youre going to be able to return soon, then I think Id rather just start looking for someone else now. No, I will be back. Definitely. I just need to get my head straight. Things are so fucked up right now for me. I get that. OK then. If you need anything, you know where you can find me, yeah? Thanks Luke. It means a lot. No problem. Take care mate. Ben closed the door and pulled the chain across before deciding to give in to his stomachs demands. He poured himself a bowl of cereal and started making toast. After eating and washing, Ben went into his living room and started reading though Dexter in the Dark. The fire had been vanquished by the time Reece got there, at around the time Ben was waking up. Journalists had begun to gather around the front lawn. A couple were doing pre-recorded pieces to camera, presumably for the lunchtime news. Fire investigators were already on the scene, making things safe and searching for the cause. They wouldnt let Reece in, of course, but that didnt stop him from finding something vital. The front door had swung inwards, ordinarily, but fire fighters had taken it off its hinges. It was quite badly singed, but three red letters were still clearly visible. MLK. Reece clenched his fists at the sight. He had the sudden urge to kick something, and he did: the wall. It hurt a lot, but he didnt mind. Exterior pain had made the interior feel a little better.

Freemans crossed the line, he thought. If its the last thing I do, I will kill him. As soon as hed had it, Reece tried to forget even having the thought. Sure, hed threatened to kill Olly in jest before, as a turn of phrase, but this was serious, genuine. It actually worried him quite a lot that hed even imagined such a thing. Just then, the head fire investigator came out of the house. He was a man who looked like he was going to be retiring soon, and had a flock of silver hair that poked out of the back of his helmet. He looked distressed. Reece went over and had a word. Excuse me, Reece said, Im DCI Reece. One of my colleagues was in this blaze and Id really appreciate if you could tell me anything you know about what caused it. Well, the investigator said, youll certainly be finding out a lot more about this soon. It was almost definitely arson. Reece didnt feel any pride in his accurate prediction. Im amazed anyone got out at all. The place is a wreck, theres no chance of getting inside for at least another few hours. Its one of the fiercest fires Ive ever seen, and Ive seen a lot. Do you know how the fire started? I wouldnt like to guess. Usually arsonists will use a petrol bomb or something similar, but from what Ive seen so far the fire wasnt concentrated in one area to start. It looks to me like the whole ground floor caught alight at about the same time. Reece had more questions, but he knew that they could wait. He wasnt officially supposed to know this stuff anyway. Besides, the Chief had called him just before he got to the scene and wanted a word. Presumably he wanted to extend his condolences and the like. Reece shook the investigators hand and nodded before going back to his car. He wiped the tiredness from his eyes it had been days since hed gotten a decent nights sleep and headed towards the station. Kate and Maggie were already there, looking through the tapes sent to them by the Council of and various businesses in Bournemouth. Of course, they didnt have access to every camera, but the ones Bournemouth Police had provided all, apparently, showed locations that Paul Freeman frequented. All they had to go on was a description and a police mugshot. It was much bigger and clearer than the Facebook profile shot that theyd previously been working from, however. Freeman was a handsome man with dark hair and looked older than he was. According to both his mother and police records, he was 17, but could have easily passed for 24 or 25. Kate had a smart idea. Freemans records showed that he didnt own a car. Obviously, this didnt necessarily mean that he actually didnt own a car, but it was a start. In order to be in London for the killings, his most likely method of transport was via train. As Reece had said to them previously, a couple of hours on a train isnt going to stop a psychopathic murderer from doing what he wants. So they cross-checked CCTV from the London platform of Bournemouth station with the dates of the murders and factored in transport time around two hours. They made it four to be safe. The first MLK murder took place on October 2nd at around 3 in the afternoon. It was the case of a woman who had been killed by forced drug overdose. Curiously, it seemed as though the killer had had a change of heart at the last moment, and tried to revive her with adrenalin. Whether this was just a ruse or not was something the police had not managed to work out. Kate and Maggie started pouring through the Platform 2 CCTV feeds from 11 that morning. At around 11:30, much to their shock, Freeman arrived at the station, carrying a large mountain-trekking style back pack. He got on the 11:59 service to Waterloo. They checked the next murder date. November 11th. The case of a man who was pushed off the roof of a building in Central London during the Armistice Day 2

Minute Silence. Freeman arrived at Bournemouth station at 7 that morning and caught the 07:26 to Waterloo. Again, he was carrying a large pack. They checked the third murders date to confirm the pattern. 25th November. A man was surgically cut in half at the waist and thrown into a wishing well. A child found him, and had not spoken since. The murder took place in the early evening. The date was approximate, since the body was in a state of decomposition when it was found, although the victim was reported missing on the 25th. Kate and Maggie checked lunchtime trains and eventually found Freeman catching the 13:02, again to Waterloo, and again wearing a massive back pack. They were now almost certain they had their man. They went back through the dates, this time at arrivals into Bournemouth. They found him each and every time, and each and every time he had no pack on his back. He had lost it, dumped it, or used it, presumably in London on the day he made his journeys. Kate and Maggie could easily assume that the bags contained the weapons and instruments he would use in his kills. Next came the more arduous task of trying to work out where he went after arriving back in Bournemouth. Just as Kate and Maggie were about to begin, Kates phone began to ring. It was Ben Matheson. Ben had spent the entire day reading Dexter in the Dark. He was quite a quick reader, and had worked his way though it. He could easily finish it by the end of the day. He enjoyed it, in a way. He couldnt escape the feeling that he would have enjoyed it more had he read the previous books in the series and if there werent supernatural overtones at every turn. However, it was these overtones which proved the most interesting to Ben. During the story, the central character a serial killer who only goes after criminals the police cant catch has something of an existential crisis. He loses the Dark Passenger which takes him over when on a kill after witnessing the scene of a ritualistic slaughter. This Passenger is heavily hinted at being a kind of demon. It was nonsense, of course, though it did raise some questions about the nature of evil that Ben found interesting, if a bit blunt. But Ben almost coughed up his tea some way into the book, when the disfigured letters MLK appeared on the page. Bens hands literally started shaking when the connection hit in his mind. However, it was not explained for quite some time its significance. When it eventually was revealed, Ben became even more worried, though more confused. MLK, it turned out, was an Aramaic spelling of Moloch. The language, the book told him, had no vowels, so it could technically mean milk. Regardless, Moloc was portrayed as an evil god who is, essentially, responsible for all human evil. Ben wasnt sure how entirely accurate the portrayal of Moloch was, but he knew that it had to be significant to the death of his sister. After all, it would appear that it was the killer himself who gave the book to Ben. He highly doubted that any of the killings were ritualistic, though: there was far too much inconsistency, and, besides, none of them were anything like the ritual in the book. Ben put the book down and got on his computer. He searched for Moloch and found a fair bit of information. While Dexter in the Dark was accurate to some degree, it wasnt perfect. All of this had suddenly become a lot stranger but, also, more interesting. Ben idly decided that he ought to check out the One Lens Binoculars site as well. There was one new element to the front page, above all the other text and pictures, and between all the green flashes. It was a famous old picture, of the Burmese monk who set fire to himself some time in the 50s or 60s. Ben didnt know the exact details, but he instantly recognised it thanks to the cover of a Rage Against The Machine album. He didnt quite understand the significance of the shot, especially after

everything else had been so blatant. He checked out the stories page. Something new had been added there, too. Ben didnt have to constantly be reminded of his sisters death every time he clicked the link now. The story was dated that day. It described in great detail a man setting a trail of petrol through a residential building, then setting it alight. It was, typically, described in great detail. It didnt explicitly state that anyone had died, but Ben made the leap of logic without too much remorse. It was signed off with a number: 23. It was then that Ben realised that he hadnt checked the news today. All of the other stories matched up with the dates of the previous murders Carols included and it was likely that this was no different. He checked the BBC News website, since he was too lazy to go back into the living room to switch on the TV, and saw that the top story was one about government spending cuts. He clicked a link to find out some more local news. Quite near the top of the page, with a marker suggesting it was new, was a story about a policeman who had died in a fire at his home in London. His wife and two of his daughters had also perished in the fire. He was not named, but it was mentioned in passing that he was a murder detective who worked from the same station as Reece, Kate and the others. Ben realised the significance instantly. This was another MLK murder, no doubt about it. And now he even started to have an inkling about what MLK actually was. He went into the hall and called Kates number. Chapter 11: True Or False Hello? said Kate. Hello, its Ben Matheson. I know, I recognised the number. She didnt want to give away to Maggie who she was speaking to. Reece had made it clear in no uncertain terms that the team were to have no contact with Ben unless it was to arrest or question him. Ive just seen the news. That detective that diedwas he one of yours? Yes, he was. God, Im so sorry to hear that. Id say to pass on my condolences, but I dont think your boss would be best pleased to hear. Youre probably right. Was there anything else? Yeah. Yeah, something that I think is quite significant. I havent quite put all the pieces together yet, but this whole thing is starting to unravel for me. What have you found? I cant really explain over the phone. Is there any chance we could meet? We shouldnt really. I dont know how long Im going to be here for anyway. Please? Its really not something I can just explain outright. Hang on a minute. Kate covered the mouthpiece of her mobile with her free hand. Whos that? Boyfriend? said Maggie. Kate chuckled and shook her head. No, far from it. But is there any chance you could cover for me for half an hour? I promise I wont be any longer than that. Maggie shrugged. Sure. Frankly I dont know why two of us are doing this anyway. If Reece shows up Ill just say youre in the loo. Thanks, Mags. Kate picked up the phone again. Right, meet me at the Bridge Caf, its just around the corner from the station. Ive only got half an hour and youre eating into it already, so get over there as quick as you can and well talk. On my way, said Ben. He put down his phone and went straight out the front door, without even bothering to put shoes on. Reece and Tom had spent the day going around the neighbourhood of the fire looking for witnesses. Ordinarily this was a Uniform task, but since the case was so close to them they felt a duty to do it themselves.

They started quite far away from Nicks house. It had been so fierce that the families in the adjacent houses had been moved to a nearby hotel for the night. They were still there. The first family Tom and Reece interviewed were Mr. and Mrs. Banks. They were a retired couple whod lived in the same house for over two decades. I still cant believe it, said Mrs. Banks. Nick was a good bloke, him and Lydia. And those kids. Cute a button, the three of them, never caused no trouble. They didnt deserve any of this. I dont think anyone does, said Reece. But Nick was our colleague, and were determined to find out what happened. Were working on the unfortunate principal that this was an arson attack. Were hoping that it wasnt, of course, but we have to think like that until we can prove otherwise. I dont know whod want to do such a thing, said Mrs. Banks. Such an evil and horrible thing. We dont know either, said Tom, but were hoping to find out. Now, over the past few days, have you seen anyone acting strangely in the neighbourhood? Not really, said Mr. Banks. Theres a homeless guy who walks around all over the place during the day, but hes done that for ages. Reece knew that it wasnt him unless What does this homeless guy look like? Even just a rough description would be fantastic. Wellhes youngish, said Mrs. Banks. Probably no older than 30 at the very oldest, covered in scabs and scratches and always has a giant bag on his back. I would think hed have been quite handsome if he didnt look in such a bad way. And what does he do? Reece said. Well, he just kind of walks around the street. He goes past every few hours. He never seems to go anywhere in particular, just walking. Hes been about for months. How do you know hes homeless? said Tom. Mostly because of all the gear he carries on his back. Hes either homeless or in the army or something. But if he were a soldier, whyd he be walking around Bromley most of the day? Have you ever spoken to him? Reece asked. God no, said Mr. Banks. We dont make a habit of talking to strangers, especially not ones that look like junkies. He said hello to me once, said Mrs. Banks. I waved and ignored him. What was his accent like? said Reece. I dont really remember, it was quite some time ago. It certainly wasnt a London accent, it was more posh than that. I couldnt say any more than that Im afraid. Thats alright, said Reece. He turned to Tom and nodded. Alright, thank you for your help Mr. and Mrs. Banks. He took a business card out of his pocket and gave it to them. If you think of anything else, do feel free to call me, any time of day. Thanks again. He shook their hands and he and Tom went to the room of the next set of neighbours. They were Mr. and Mrs. Carter, a much younger couple than the Banks. Mrs. Carter was quite heavily pregnant. It was obviously their first child. Im just glad that the fire didnt spread, said Mr. Banks after being asked by Tom how they were getting on. Not only because of safety and stuff, but because weve only just moved in, decorated the place, bought clothes and toys for the little unI dont know how wed have coped. Did you know the Tallman family well? said Reece. Not especially. Spoke to the bloke, Nick was it?, a couple of times but we werent exactly bessy mates. He seemed like a decent enough bloke though. I feel so sorry for that little girl.

Weve only quite recently moved in, said Mrs. Banks. About two months ago or so. And the babys due in three weeks. I hope well be able to get back in soon. From what I gather, said Reece, the fire was contained to the Tallmans house, so Id imagine youll be able to get back relatively soon. Have you seen anyone strange around the neighbourhood recently? said Tom. Apart from the local tramp, not really, said Mr. Banks. I think weve heard about him already, said Reece. Youngish, scabby but handsome face? Thats the guy, said Mrs. Banks. Why, was it him that did it? Were not ruling anything out at the moment. Officially, this isnt a murder investigation yet, but were doing this out of procedure. Reece realised that they werent going to get anything new out of this couple, so decided that was enough. Theyd had a description of a guy who matched Paul Freeman, at least a little, and so at least they had some kind of connection. Reece again handed his card to the couple before getting up and leaving with Tom. They headed back to Nicks road to question more possible witnesses. Kate wasnt waiting long in the caf for Ben. It was a chilly evening, and so Kate was surprised to see that not only was he not wearing a coat, but that he didnt even have shoes on. He sat at the table Kate was on immediately, wanting to waste no more time. It had already been 15 minutes since they spoke on the phone, giving him only that amount of time again. Hi, Ben said, stammering a bit thanks to shivers. Hello. Lets get to it then, what have you found? Have you been on the One Lens Binoculars site today? Ben, Ive been kind of busy. We all have. The fires been taking up some of our time, looking for Paul Freeman the rest of it. And oh my God I shouldnt have even said that. Why? Youre not a detective, youre not even a police officer, thats why! God. Look, sorry, I probably sound like Im having a go, but Im not. Its just been a long day. What about the site? It describes the arson. In great detail, just like all the other murder stories on there. Really? Oh shit Yeah. It certainly looks like its another MLK killing. Do you know if MLK was written anywhere? Not as far as I know. But I havent really beenIm doing it again. Thanks for the information, Ben. Theres something else. I think Im starting to work out what MLK means. I havent quite gotten there, but its a start. Carry on. You remember that picture on the site, the one of my living room? I think it was a clue. The killer placed something in there. It was a book called Dexter in the Dark. Without going into too much detail Ive read it. Im a big fan of the series, said Kate. That bookthat ones the one with all the gods and demons and stuff isnt it? MLK! Moloch! I remember! Why didnt I think of that before? Probably because its a useless connection. The whole MLK thing in the book is about ritualistic killings involving bull heads, nothing like the murders that have been going on around here. But there has to be some sort of connection. Otherwise the book wouldnt have been left in your flat. Yeah, of course. Thats what I was trying to work on when I found out about

the fire. Alright, said Kate. Im going to tell the boss about the updates to the site, but keep a lid on the news about MLK. He needs to know, but Id rather not have to tell him that it came from you. Maybemaybe you could send an anonymous tip? Call Crimestoppers or something? I guess. But isnt there the risk that thatll make me look even more guilty? I suppose thats possible. Alright. Lets leave him in the dark about MLK for now. I cant believe Ive just said that. Ive got to get back anyway. Let me know if you find anything new out. I will, said Ben. Of course. Kate stood and left without another word. Ben decided to order a coffee before going back to the flat. At about that time, Reece and Ben rang the doorbell of the house opposite Nicks. It was growing colder by the minute, the sky and covered with cloud and it was getting darker. This was the first house theyd visited since leaving the hotel. The house was nearly identical to Nicks: a two storey terrace with a small front lawn and white brickwork that was chipped in a couple of places. A little girl answered the door. She was only about seven years old and had long blonde hair. Hello, said Reece. He took his warrant card out of his pocket. Im a policeman. Are your mummy and daddy at home? The girl didnt talk to them, just turned her back and went into the house. Mum! she shouted, Policeman at the door! What? said a voice from somewhere inside. A few seconds later a woman came to the door. It was quite clear she was the girls mother: long blonde hair and practically identical features. Oh, hello. Sorry about Apple, she can be quite rude sometimes. Thats quite alright, said Reece. She was good for not talking to strangers, when you think about it. Anyway, Im DCI Reece and this is DI Black. Were asking around about the fire that happened over the road last night. Oh, of course. I cant believe it. Reece tried to count the amount of times hed heard the words I cant believe it that day. They were such a nice family. Did you know them well, Mrs? said Tom. Miss Pullman. And no, not really. I saw them leaving the house and what have you, but that was about it. I wouldnt say we were exactly close. We spoke now and then, though. This might sound an odd question, but have you seen anyone strange in the area these past few weeks, yesterday, even? Reece asked. He was fully expecting to hear about the young homeless man once again. Yeah, actually, said Miss Pullman. There was a car. Yesterday at about, I dont know, 12, this black Escort or something kept circling around the block. Every four minutes or so, youd see it again, going right past, then coming back. That carried on for about half an hour. How did you notice this? said Tom. Oh, I work from home. My office is right up there. She pointed to the first storey window above the door. My desk looks right over the road. I cant help but be nosey sometimes, and I just kept seeing it out of the corner of my eye. Eventually it went away, but I thought it was a bit odd. Tom and Reece shared a look. Was the homeless man a red herring? Or was this? So, it was a black Escort? said Reece. Yeah, or something similar. I dont suppose you got a look at the driver or even just a couple of letters of the number plate? No, Im afraid not. It was definitely a bloke driving, I can tell you that, but I couldnt really see him well enough to see what he looked like. Sorry.

Nothing to be sorry for, said Tom. Youve been most helpful. Reece got another card out of his pocket and handed it to Miss Pullman. If you remember anything else, please do get in touch, Reece said. Miss Pullman said goodbye and shut the door. Reece and Tom shared another look. They checked out a couple of other nearby houses. They got no response from one, but another verified both the story about the homeless man and the one about the black Escort. The homeowner also confirmed that the driver of the car was a man, and not only a man, but a man who matched Paul Freemans rough description. Thinking that they finally had enough to go on, Reece and Tom headed back to the station. Chapter 12: Just a Dream Ben got online as soon as he got home. Nothing had changed, and for that he was thankful. He decided to check out the Unfiction forum, since he hadnt for a little while. The players thought they were making progress. They believed that every time they got some unknown thing right that the One Lens Binoculars site was updated. Obviously, this was a fallacy, but they werent to know that. They were pawns just the same as Ben was. Curiously, none of the players had noticed that the stories were linked to real life events. However, Ben noted that many of the players were not from the UK, let alone London. As such, it would have been pretty easy for them to miss such a crucial detail. Undoubtedly the killer knew this. It was becoming increasingly worryingly apparent that the killer had planned all this out like a child setting up a board game. A game. This is all just a game to him, Ben thought. What if the only way to find him is to give in? To stop actively trying to solve the case? To play along? It wasnt a step that was especially hard to leap to. Ben had been an unwilling participant in the game since Carols murder. It was time to get serious. By the time Reece and Tom got back to the station, Kate and Maggie had nearly finished pouring through all the CCTV footage. Reece called the entire group together for the first time since that morning at the hospital although it felt a hell of a lot longer than just a day to the group to bash heads together. Right, said Reece. Girls, what have you found on the CCTV? We started off by checking out the train station, said Maggie. You gave us the idea that it would be entirely possible for Freeman to come up here, murder, and get back all within a few hours. So we checked out trains on the days of the murders and a few hours before and after. Every single time, we found Freeman. Every fucking time? said Reece. Haha! Good work. Thats not all though, guv, said Kate. Every time he took the train up he was wearing a back pack, like a mountaineer would wear. One of those huge ones. Every time he came back, it was gone. Our theory is that it had the stuff he needed to commit his crime in it, although obviously we cant be certain. Anyway, then we tried to trace him back to his house. We only got lucky once. He took a cab, which we followed via CCTV as far as the high street in Boscombe, which is a suburb of Bournemouth. Then we lost it around the residential buildings. But we reckon that he must live in that area somewhere, and if we canvass it we might get lucky. Thats a bit of a leap, said Reece. But its the best we could do, said Maggie. Alright, thanks a lot girls, fantastic work. Tom and I have obviously been working a different angle the attack on Nicks house. Im now certain it was arson. There isnt a shadow of doubt in my mind. Anyway, after interviewing neighbours, we got two suspects, both of whom fit Freemans description. The first is a homeless gent

whos been around for ages. Interestingly enough, he always wears an army-style large back pack, which it sounds like is about the same as the one you saw Freeman wearing at the station. The second suspect is a man who was seen driving a black Ford Escort around the block several times yesterday. Of course, he could have just been lost or something, but to pass the spot of an arson attack every five minutes on the day it happened is certainly worth investigating, I think. Id say so, said Maggie. Alright, said Reece, Its been a long day, so I think we ought to get home and come back fresh in the morning and start to close down this case. Guv, said Kate, There is one more thing I wanted to bring up. Oh yeah? said Reece. When I took a break earlier, I thought Id check out the One Lens Binoculars site. You mean, Ben Mathesons Great Red Herring? said Reece. Whatever you want to call it. But its been updated, just this morning. And it describes an arson attack on Nicks house, in just as much detail as all the other murders. OK. I guess that was only to be expected. But it does definitely prove at least some, confirmed, link between the site and MLK. It doesnt let Matheson off the hook, though. Of course not, said Kate. I just thought I should bring it up. Alright, well thanks Kate. Anyone else want to add anything? The group remained silent. OK. Well call it a night then. Good work everyone, today, despite the circumstances. Youve done Nick proud. Lets make sure we get the bastard responsible. Ben didnt really know what to do, so he went to bed. There had been no new updates on the site, and without more to go on he couldnt really put his plan into action. Despite his long sleep the night before, Ben was still shattered. He had a particularly odd dream. He was flying, as he often did in his dreams, through the citys streets skyscrapers like Superman. Normally, he just flew without any real direction, but this was a little different. It felt like he had a place to go. He was looking around, searching for the right place. Eventually, he found it. He didnt know why it was right, only that it was. He landed on the roof. There was a wedge-shaped structure with a door in it. Ben went over and opened it. A set of stairs revealed itself. He walked down them. The seemed to continue forever, neverending, but eventually he reached another door. He swung it open and revealed a large cavern, which reminded Ben of the Batcave, but without all the gadgets and gear. It was huge, and seemed completely empty. It was incredibly vivid; Ben could heard running water somewhere in the distance. Ben walked towards the sound with trepidation. He tried, first, to take off, but found himself well and truly grounded. Again, the walk seemed almost infinite. Eventually, he found the source of the noise. It was quite dark, but Ben was quite sure that it was not, as he thought, water. The smell was of petrol. Then he heard a scream. He ran back down the cave to where it had come from. As he ran, the cave changed form, transforming into a oversized bedroom, complete with tacky wallpaper and laminate flooring. Then he saw Carol. She was sat, tied in a chair, rocking from side to side, trying to get free. She couldnt. A figure came up behind her. It was totally enveloped in darkness; it was merely a black humanoid form. There were no features, except for the pistol in its right hand. It walked towards Ben. Ben tried to move forwards, to free his sister and stop

thisthing, but he couldnt. He was glued to the floor. The shape stood right in front of Ben and turned around. He pointed his gun in Carols direction. And fired. Carol let out a terrible scream. The thing shot again. Another scream. Another shot. This carried on for some time before, at last, light started to flood into the cave/room from some unknown point. It was bright, clear white. The thing put up its arms as if to shield itself from the blast, but it was futile. The thing vaporised into millions of tiny black particles. Ben was free to move again. He went over to check on his sister. She was unrecognisable, covered with blood and bullet holes. But she was still alive. Ben leaned down to her level. Carol, its alright, Im here! Ben said. Carol spat warm blood in Bens face. Youre supposed to be the hero, she said. You couldnt even save your own sister. The room started to get smaller and smaller, eventually being only just big enough for the two of them. It continued to close in, slower, but with force. Ben tried to hold the walls back, but it was futile. He was crushed. Then he woke up. Chapter 13: Leads Reece finally slept right through a night, much to Ollys joy, and headed into the station at the time he always used to, before any of this nonsense happened. Kate, Tom and Maggie did the same. Reece gathered them together, just as he had done the night before. Morning folks, first of all, he said. They all responded positively. I hope you all finally got some sleep last night. I know I did. Anyway, Ive been thinking. As we discussed last night, weve got two separate lines of inquiry which may or may not be related. One up here in London, one on the south coast in Bournemouth. Now, ordinarily I would expect that wed all work the London side of the case whilst we let Bournemouth police do all the legwork at that end. But I dont want that to happen. I think wed all agree that this is far too personal a case to let any outside factors come into play. So what are you suggesting, boss? said Tom. I want us to split. Maggie and Kate, since you both did all the hard work fishing out leads from the CCTV, Id like the two of you to go down south. Now, obviously, both of you are only DCs, and you really should have someone more senior supervising you. But because of Nicks passing, were short a DS. So with immediate effect, Maggie, Im bumping you up to, essentially, acting Sergeant. Obviously Im going to need to speak to the top brass about making it more permanent but I cant see it being an issue. You passed your exams a while back, didnt you? Yeah, said Maggie, Back when I was in Uniform, before the CID post opened. Thanks guv. I wont let you down. I know you wont, said Reece. Kate, this means that youre going to have to start calling Mags guv or something from now on! Kate and Maggie chuckled at this. Alright, so I want you two to go home and pack an overnight back and get on the first train down there that you can. Ill get in contact with the local force to book you a hotel and give you some bodies to help the search, but youll be in control. Tom, you and I are going to stay up here and try and find that homeless bloke and whoever was driving the Escort. Everybody happy? Yes guv, his team said in unison. Good. Lets get going then. Ben checked out the One Lens Binoculars site pretty much as soon as he woke up. It slightly disturbed him that he was hoping for some kind of update that he could work

on. He was disappointed, then, to learn nothing new. He showered, dressed and ate before coming back to his desk. Again, there was nothing. Since there wasnt really anything he could usefully work on on the site, he decided to do some meta-work on it. He took another look at the source code. The MLKMLKMLK message was gone, replaced by another more sinister note. Dear Ben, Good chap, I think you and I are going to get along just swell. Now, heres a little puzzle just for you. I say just for you because no-one else will ever manage to get it. Whats Carols middle name? It was Saoirse, of course, and the writer was correct, only Ben would know this. Well, Ben and anyone who could remember it from Carols Facebook and knew how to even approach spelling it let alone pronouncing it. Players of the game could search for Carol Matheson until the end of time and still not find that information out. Even her surname wasnt mentioned in the stories section. The Unfiction thread had already latched on to the new note. Clearly, someone had been going and looking at the source code of the site every day, looking for changes. Apparently, this was the first change since the game began. The important thing, as far as Ben was concerned, was that he had no idea what to do with the name. There was nowhere obvious to type it in, except for the contact box. Ben knew, though, that this just linked directly to his own email account, which would do no good to anyone. In fact, hed already received a few emails from players that he just ignored. Ben closed the source code and went to the homepage. It was a long shot, but he decided to type the name without having any particular destination. He typed S. As he did so, there was a flash of green on the screen, identical to the flashes that could be uncovered by mousing over certain areas of the page. However, there appeared to be some kind of shape in the middle of the flash this time. It was gone so quickly that Ben couldnt see it. He typed an A next. Another flash. There seemed to be the same symbol in it. An O next. Again. And again. Every time he thought he saw the shape more clearly. Eventually, on the final E, he got it. It was a bird, more specifically a bird similar to one you would see on a hieroglyphic. It was looking to the right, but Ben couldnt really make out much more detail than that. After the final letter was typed and the final bird flash came and went, the homepage looked much as it did before. For a moment. After which, it melted. The colour drained from it like thick wet paint, running a very smooth animation. Behind it was pure white and nothing else. Ben moused over it a bit. In certain sections which Ben felt almost certain were the same sections that caused the screen to flash before the cursor changed into a typing line. He highlighted these sections. There was one of two letters revealed: H or P. After Ben had uncovered all of them, there was another flash, a red one this time. However, this one stuck the colour of the background had changed from white to red. There was a message typed in black upon it. WHY SO SERIOUS?!?!?!? BEN, IS THIS MAKING SENSE YET? I DO HOPE NOT. Ben tried clicking all over the screen to make things move on, but nothing he tried worked. He was just about to close the browser window when the screen changed again. This time a picture became apparent. It was a handsome looking man with

short brown hair. At first, Ben thought it was Paul Freeman. But then he realised it wasnt. This man was no-one hed ever seen before. He looked entirely ordinary, the type of man youd walk past on the street any day of the week and not pay attention to. If you squinted a bit, he could look like pretty much anyone. The man was staring right out of the screen like Mona Lisa. His eyes would follow you anywhere. He had a small smile on his face, as if he were proud. Ben had a sudden realisation. This man was the killer. Maggie was glad that they didnt have to drive to Bournemouth. At least she wouldnt have to argue with Tom every other mile. But at the same time, she kind of wished that they were driving. Going on a trip didnt ever feel the same to her if she werent using the motorway. She wasnt especially happy at having Kate with her either. It wasnt that she didnt like Kate. She was a perfectly acceptable human being who caused no problems for herself or others. But she knew that she was hiding something. Just last night, Kate had lied to Reece. She didnt check the One Lens Binoculars site at any point, and the only time she went on a break was when she stepped out of the building. Unless shed gone to an internet caf when she could have just used any of the vacant computers in the CID command centre, there was no way she could have. Maggie already thought that she knew the solution. Ben Matheson. It had to be. Kate was still technically his family liaison officer, so strictly speaking she had every right to speak to him and give him reassurance that theyd catch his sisters killer. But Maggie had the feeling in her gut that their conversation was nothing of the sort. In fact, she was pretty certain that Ben was conducting his own private investigation. And, hell, he might have been doing better than the detectives themselves. The only people who knew that for certain were Kate and Ben himself. Obviously, though, Maggie thought, even if he did have truly vital information, there was every chance that Reece would lock him up and ignore any evidence if he ever came to them directly with it. Hence why he had to talk with Kate about it in secret. Maggie was understanding of his reasoning. Hell, she didnt really give a damn. She was as sick with this case as anyone else on the team, and desperately wanted to see it end. Especially as poor Nick had been one of the victims. But all this uncertainty was contrasted by the fact that she had a new rank. Shed been on the cusp of accepting a Uniform sergeant position right before a space opened up in CID. Shed always wanted to be a sergeant, but ever since she was a kid shed wanted to be a detective. The move was a no brainer. And now she got the best of both worlds! A detective sergeant. She was a woman of power. Admittedly, strictly speaking the only person she could use any of this power on was Kate, and maybe some Uniform officers, but it was better than nothing. Kate, on the other hand, had always quite liked Maggie. She could be a bit eccentric at times not helped by her flock of frizzy hair but she was a good detective. She was a fair bit older than Kate too, and had kind of taken her under her wing when she made the jump to detective about a year ago. But this was the first proper case theyd worked together on. They met at the taxi rank just outside Waterloo station and walked in together. Neither had ever been inside the Waterloo terminal before, and they were both immediately amazed by its scale. A huge glass ceiling covered the entire area, there were plenty of shops and eateries piled up along one wall and a massive platform information board along the other. In addition, a few smaller stores took up some floorspace in the middle of the concourse. There were a vast amount of platforms all lined up next to each other, like Roman soldiers, beyond gates under the platform information board. There were hundreds of people milling about as well, walking to and fro

platforms and shops and entrances and exits. They made it feel more cramped than, by rights, it should have been in such a massive structure. Maggie went to an information terminal to buy tickets for them both whilst Kate checked out which platform theyd need. There was a train leaving from Platform 9 in 15 minutes. Five of those minutes were wasted waiting for Maggie to come back with the tickets, which seemed extortionately priced to her. Petrol money would probably have been cheaper, in the scheme of things, but at least they could gather this back on expenses. They both quickly got a coffee. By the time theyd been served, they had to get a bit of a rush on to reach the platform in time. They managed to get there with a couple of minutes to spare. They understood why it was so busy here now: 15 minutes had passed in the blink of an eye. There werent many seats left on the train. It was a white, five carriage train which made a few stops on the way to its destination of Weymouth. They walked through from the back to the front, trying to find two seats next to each other. The middle coach was a supposed quiet zone, where the detectives actually noticed more people on their mobiles than in any of the other carriages. The next carriage eventually yielded a result. The only reason it had been left empty was because there was a carrier bag full of discarded beer cans on the window seat. Kate just shoved it under the seat and sat. Kate took her place next to her as the train started to pull away. It was a pretty calming journey, first of all through the urban forests of Londons suburbs and, soon, the real plains and forests of Sussex and Hampshire. A few people got off at Woking, but more got on. A lot got off at Basingstoke, and a few got on. That was when all the trouble started. Reece and Tom, meanwhile, went back to Nicks street. They didnt really know the best way of finding the man in the car, but at the very least they could get some more information on the homeless guy and, hopefully, get some other leads on the car driver as well. They took a small group of Uniform officers with them. Reece and one of the constables a young woman who Reece thought looked young enough to still be at school called PC Heigl started at house number 1. Across the street, two more constables were knocking at the door of number 2. All the way down the other end of the road, Tom had copied Reeces structure. He and one constable a young man this time in only his third week on the job called PC Smith took one side of the street, two more Uniform took the other. They all started knocking on doors at about the same time. Everyone they spoke to knew who they were talking about instantly with regards to the homeless man. It seemed that every house in the road knew of him, and they all gave the same description. Young man, brown hair, carrying a large back pack. Most of the homeowners Tom and Reece spoke to didnt know anything about a man driving several times around the block a couple of days previously. It was a Saturday now, but when the driver had been going around it had been in the middle of an ordinary work day and practically no-one had seen him. Reece also checked with everyone they spoke to to see if they had any private CCTV cameras. It was a long shot, but he knew that people had occasion to install such cameras if theyd been hassled by groups of yobs, for instance. There werent any public cameras in the nearby vicinity either. As it turned out, this was a pretty quiet street, and there was never any need for that kind of thing. But Tom got lucky with one house. The guy who lived there was a retired gent and his wife. He had a flock of silver hair and the beard of a Father Christmas knockoff, while she had a brown barnet which was quite obviously not natural. Yes, said the man, I know the man you mean exactly. Tom had been

asking about the homeless bloke. I talked to him quite regularly. You actually talked to him? said Tom, who couldnt quite contain his surprise. Frankly, hed been growing quite bored of being told no, sorry for the past hour. Oh yes. He was a nice guy, just in a bad situation. What do you mean? He served in the army, so he told me, one tour in Iraq. He had PTSD and was discharged, but couldnt find a job. I dont know exactly how it all unfolded, but he kind of suggested to me that his parents had either died or kicked him out, and he ended up on the street with nowhere else to go. Wow. Um, I dont suppose you got his name, did you? Yes, I did. He called himself Paul, but I never got a last name. Paul. Youre sure about that? Absolutely. And I can tell you where to find him as well. Chapter 14: Dead Ends A couple of the passengers who boarded Maggie and Kates train at Basingstoke were stereotypical male chavs. They were dressed in pale blue tracksuits and white trainers. Their hair held an unbelievable amount of gel and in the hands of one of them was a carrier bag full, this time, of unopened beer cans. The other had a mobile phone in his hand that was playing rap music at full volume, as if he thought that there was no chance of anyone on the train not liking his tunes. As luck would have it, they took the empty seats directly on the other side of the aisle from where Kate and Maggie were sitting. The music was excruciating from here, not just loud but bad. Kate had headphones on for her own music, but it was completely drowned out by the other passengers. Maggie had her head buried in a book and was trying to ignore them, but couldnt. She didnt read anything, but kept her head down anyway. The chavs talked to each other, pretty quietly, whilst they got a can of beer each out of their bag. Maggie and Kate couldnt hear what they were saying and, frankly, they were surprised they could hear what they were saying. Maggie cast a glance over to her right, over to them. One of them met her gaze. He smiled at her, revealing several rotten teeth and one gold canine. Alright love? he said, loud enough to hear over the music. The other passengers in the carriage were obviously just as frustrated. Maggie just nodded lightly and looked at her book again. Whos your friend? he said. Kate couldnt hear what he was saying over his music and hers, and Maggie ignored him. Oi, bitch, said the second one, who was chewing gum. My friend is talking to you. Maggie ignored them again. Are you a fucking retard or something, love? He practically shouted this. Maggie was getting irritated now. She put her book down and turned to look at them. No. I just want to read my book. Kate noticed that Maggie had put down her read and took her headphones out. You dont need no books love, said gold-tooth. Your train entertainments sorted out right here! How about we go back into the loos? Your mate can come as well, if you want. I think well be alright, actually, sir, said Kate. Ooh, said gum, the other one wants in now as well! You appear to be having problems understanding us, perhaps because were not speaking in broken Pidgin English like you are, but let me make it clear, Maggie said. We. Are Not. Interested. The men were quiet for a moment, as if trying to comprehend exactly what Maggie had just said to them. Eventually, they came up with a startlingly original

retort to their proposition. Fridged cunts. That almost sent Maggie over the edge. She twitched as if to stand up, but Kate noticed what she was planning instantly and stopped her. The men were laughing with each other too much to notice. They didnt speak to Kate and Maggie again for a while after that. It wasnt long before the train guard arrived, inspecting tickets. He holepunched Kate and Maggies before turning to the chavs. Lads, any chance you could turn the music down please, youre disturbing the other passengers, he said. This aint the quiet zone is it? said gold-tooth. No, but thats not an excuse. Actually, having the music that loud could be in breach of health and safety since you cant hear any tannoy announcements over it. Oh fuck off, said gum. Excuse me? said the guard. Right, thats it, off the train at the next stop. You fuckin what? said gum. I said, youre getting off the train at the next stop. I dont think so mate, were going down to Southampton, not Winchester, said gold-tooth. You will exit the train at the next stop, said the guard, slowly and with force, or I will call the police and have them escort you off the service when we get there. Gold-tooth stood up. He moved his face right into the guards. I dont fucking think so. All of the passengers on the train had realised, by now, what was going on. Gold-tooth had taken a small knife out of his jeans pockets. Kate and Maggie looked at each other. They were police officers, they should do something about this. At the same time, they were murder detectives, and they had no intention of being detectives who were murdered. They had no gear on them except warrant cards. They were in plain clothes and, although both of them had a set of handcuffs, they were in their bags in the overhead compartments. But they had to do something: there was no doubt that gold-tooth was planning to do something stupid. Maggie stood up. Leave him alone, she said. Gum laughed at this. Or fucking what, cunt? Kate stood with her, and they drew out their warrant cards practically in unison. Again, said Maggie, You dont seem to understand. Fuck, said gum, Tony, theyre coppers! Oh shit, said gold-tooth. He immediately put away the knife. Alright love, take it easy, we wont cause no more trouble. Go and contact the next station, said Kate to the guard. These guys are getting off. Ben didnt know what to do. Its him. I know it is. The man was just staring at him with that slight smile, never flinching, never moving. He knew that, although it was against his better judgement, he really ought to show it to the police. He right clicked the photo, intending to save it to his hard drive when It disappeared. As suddenly as it had arrived, it had gone once more. Now there was nothing on the screen at all, no message, no picture, nothing. Ben clicked the back button on his browser, trying frantically to get the image back on screen, but that didnt work. It did, however, reload the main page. Ben tried typing Saoirse again, but to no avail. He could not get the colour to bleed, the message to appear, the hieroglyphic, or anything like that. Instead, absolutely nothing happened, not even a green flash. However, the screen did, indeed, still flash green when he moused over the usual sections of the homepage. Ben clicked around the site and found nothing new. He went onto the Unfiction thread. There had been one new post by one of the more active players. Did anyone notice that the site 404d for a little while? Back up now. Clearly, Ben had been the only person who had seen anything. To others, it

had simply looked like a standard message displayed when a website was down. Ben was mightily confused, and suppressed he desire to put his fist through the screen. He hung around for a little longer, before realising that nothing new was going to change. Not for the first time, he didnt know what to do. Sure, he could probably go to the police and tell them what happened, but it would likely be of absolutely no use to them. Not only that, but the man in the picture had just looked ordinary. There was no real way to describe him any differently. Especially as no-one else had seen him. Ben was completely stumped. And he was certain? said Reece. Absolutely, said Tom. And I fully believe him. Theres certainly no reason not to. The homeless guy is called Paul. Turns out the old boy who named him does a bit of homeless charity work in his retirement, works in a shelter a couple of days a week. Hes seen him in there. Well, then lets get down to that fucking station! Its probably worth a shout, guv, but dont get too excited. The old boy told me that hes only seen him in there a couple of times and reckons he moves about quite a bit. We might get lucky. Lord knows were due some after all this. Reece instructed the Uniform officers to continue to canvass the area, trying to find out more information on the homeless Paul and, if possible (although Reece thought it wasnt very likely), some details about the car driver as well. Reece drove with Tom in the passenger seat. Reece didnt know of Toms row with Maggie when theyd driven to Wales; chances are if he had known hed have passed the keys over. They only drove about two miles, but every hundred yards Tom was playing the role of backseat driver to perfection. You should put your indicators on, guv, Bike guv, watch out, Van pulling out across the road there guv, keep an eye out. Reece got incredibly frustrated and, had the shelter not suddenly appeared on the corner of the road like an oasis in a desert, would probably have used a choice few four letter words on him. The shelter did as suggested, but only just. It provided shelter for anyone who sought it, although it was in a bad state of disrepair. A couple of windows were boarded up, the sky-blue paint that covered the outside was heavily chipped, and there were traces of badly cleaned up vomit and faeces outside the door. The inside, though, was surprisingly modern. There was a small lobby and front desk, behind which was a door which looked into what seemed to be a games room. There was an admittedly torn snooker table and a couple of retro arcade video game machines. There was a small queue at the desk, made up of clearly homeless people. They stunk of stale booze and tobacco and they wore ripped clothes. They obviously hadnt showered or changed for quite some time. Reece and Tom in their tailored suits actually looked quite ridiculous in this scenario. They waited patiently, eventually getting to the front of the queue after about 10 minutes. There was a pretty young girl with red hair sat at the desk. Can Ioh! she said with some surprise. Oh, uh, what can I do for you gentlemen? Reece and Tom withdrew their warrant cards. We were just wondering if we could have a word withthe manager or something, I suppose, said Reece. Its related to a major crime. Oh, uh, certainly sir. Just let me go and get my supervisor. She vanished into the games room and came back a moment later with a man in tow. He was in his mid thirties and had long blond hair and a straggly beard. Frankly, he looked more like he lived than worked there. Police? he said. Reece and Tom nodded. Step this way. He led the detectives through the games room and up the stairs on the other side. Two men were playing a game of pool one of them was losing quite badly. The upstairs seemed quite a bit bigger than the ground floor. It was split into

two sections on either side of a corridor: on one side was a large bedroom filled with bunks, whilst the other side was perhaps a little smaller and featured a canteen with plenty of tables to eat on. The far end of the corridor held the bathrooms and a door marked administrative office, which the detectives were led into. The office was open plan but pretty small. There were three desks with a computer at each, with a couple of filing cabinets lining the side walls. Stacks of paper were piled on each desk, which Tom thought was a bit odd since there didnt seem to be a printer. No-one was inside, though. Take a seat, said the man, as he went behind a desk. Sorry, I didnt say my name. Im Peter David and I more-or-less run this place. What can I help you with? Thanks for speaking to us, Mr. David. Im DCI Reece and this is DI Black. Basically, weve come here today looking for some information which could prove incredibly useful in an ongoing murder investigation. Oh yes? said Mr. David. Were looking for a man named Paul possibly with the last name of Freeman but were not certain on that. We were told by one of your volunteers that hed stayed here a few times. Hmmis this fellow in trouble? Were just looking for information at present, Mr. David, said Tom. Just let me look up anyone by the name Paul Freeman. He typed away at the computer, waiting for long periods before typing anything else. Do you keep records of everyone who passes through? said Tom while he was waiting. Yeah, absolutely. Its a bit of a waste of time sometimes, though. You simply wouldnt believe the amount of John Smiths we get through our door. Obviously theres no way of proving if a homeless drifter is telling the truth about their name, but wed be failing in our duty of care if we didnt at least ask. Ah, he said, something coming up on screen at last. No-one by the name of Paul Freeman, Im afraid. There are a few Pauls that have passed through recently, though. Any pictures? said Reece. No. Weve got a CCTV, but we change the tapes every week. Unless your man came through this week then youre probably out of luck. Youre free to go through them though, if you like. That would be useful, thanks. Ill call down for them, you can pick them up on the way out. Mr. David picked up the phone on the desk and did just that. Is there anything else I can help you with? he said after hed put the receiver down. Not especially, said Reece. Youve been very helpful, thank you for your time. Would you mind if we had a word with some of your staff and perhaps some of youruhcustomers before we leave? We like to call them residents, despite the fact that they dont live here full time. But by all means, please do, if you think itll help. I cant promise that all our residents will be particularly receptive of having to chat to a policeman, but do feel free anyway. Thanks again for your time, said Tom. Both he and Reece took out business cards and handed them across the desk. If you think you can be of any help, perhaps if a Paul Freeman does come through in the next few days or so, please do get in touch. Thanks again for your time Mr. David. The men shook hands and the detectives left through the same door theyd entered, turning left on the corridor into the food hall. Reeces phone began to ring as they did so. Chapter 15: Close Shaves Two Uniformed police officers were waiting at Winchester station when Kate and Maggie got off the train with gum and gold-tooth. The guard had gotten off as well.

All of them were informed that they needed to go down to the local police station to give a statement. Kate and Maggie asked if they could do theirs at the train station since they really needed to get down to Bournemouth. Sorry, we really need to handle this in a more official capacity maam, said one of the cops. Im sure you understand. Well this is all we need, said Maggie to Kate, but they eventually conceded. Another guard got onto their train and the service went on its way. Kate, Maggie and the Guard had to travel by taxi because there wasnt enough space in the car. The taxi driver wasnt particularly happy for the trip, since the station was literally up the road. Of course, Maggie and Kate werent to know this: theyd never been into the ancient city before. On the way, Kate gave Reece a ring. Hello? he said. Hi guv, its Kate. Weve been held up a bit. Bloody Network Rail, he said. I didnt know you could get leaves on the line in the spring. Its not quite that, sir. We had to make an arrest on the train, a guy brandished a knife at the guard. Oh God. Is he alright? Are you alright? Were all fine, guv. As soon as the guy knew we were police he suddenly became very accommodating. Well thats a blessing I suppose. Yeah. But unfortunately were having to go to the local nick to be processed and have a statement taken. I tried to explain were in a bit of a hurry but I guess theyre not to know. Fuck off are they. Youre Met, they cant tell you what to do, especially Uniforms! Still. It shouldnt take long anyway, guv, it should put an hour on our journey at the most. Thats still an hour you could be spending looking for Freeman. Get out of there as soon as you can. Ill put in a call to the local chief to try and get things sorted. Surely you can give your statements later, or something, its hardly the most serious crime in the world. Alright. Well let me know of any updates. Will do guv. Speak to you later. By the time Kate was off the phone, the driver had taken them up a huge hill after spinning out of the taxi rank and taken a quick right turn at the top. The station in front of them was partially obscured by trees and the entrance would probably have been easy to miss had the driver not known where he was going. But they got there no less than 30 seconds after the cops, who were leading their arrests in to be processed. Maggie, Kate and the guard had to hang around in the waiting area for quite some time. It was at least half an hour, but it felt like a hell of a lot longer. Eventually, a Uniform Sergeant came out of a door in the lobby. Hello detectives and Mr? He addressed this to the guard. White, Roger White. Alright then, Mr. White, well take your statement first. If youd like to follow me Uh, said Maggie, Excuse me. But were on a police operation heading down to Bournemouth. We really do need to get there as soon as possible. I appreciate that, maam, but Mr. White here is the victim of a crime and I think hes been waiting here long enough. I apologise, but well be with you as soon as we possibly can, just sit tight. Maggie went to say something else, but by the time she got her mouth open, the Sergeant had turned his back and taken Mr. White with him. He left Kate and Maggie, who were actually getting quite hungry and thirsty after all this time, sat just

where they were. After another half an hour or so, Mr. White came back out into the reception area and left through the front door. A moment later, the Sergeant came and collected them. He led them into a small interview room making Kate and Maggie instantly feel like criminals and switched on a tape. Is that tape really necessary? said Maggie. Would you rather us waste even more of your time by writing it down? said the Sergeant, in quite a smug manner. Lets just get on with it, said Kate. Alright, said the Sergeant. Lets start by the two of you giving me your version of the events. Kate and Maggie explained in as best detail as they could what happened. That the two suspects had gotten on the train at Basingstoke and tried to make an advance on the both of them, which they had ignored. Then that the men had been insulting and, when the train guard came along and asked them to turn their music down, one of them had pulled a knife. Then theyd taken out two pairs of handcuffs (which Maggie asked back) and arrested them. Simple as that. Why did you feel the need to handcuff them? said the Sergeant. Maggie was flabbergasted by the question. One of them was holding a knife! What did you want me to do? Give him a bunch of flowers? No need to be so uptight, maam, Im simply doing my job. And youre preventing us for doing ours, said Kate. Were on our way to investigate a very serious murder investigation in Bournemouth, and youre holding us up considerably. As Ive said before, I do apologise for the delay, but we do have protocol to follow. If we didnt, I and my officers could be up for disciplinary, which Im sure you wouldnt want. Youll be facing a disciplinary for interfering with an ongoing Met investigation if you keep us here much longer! said Maggie, her face boiling with rage. Alright, alright. Youve made your point and I think were done here, said the Sergeant. Youre free to go. Leave a contact number at the desk in case we need to get in touch again. Instead, Kate and Maggie both left their business cards on the interview table and walked out without another word. They caught a cab back to the station, only to find that all the trains were cancelled or heavily delayed. They asked a member of staff and found out that a train had had an accident at a level crossing in the New Forest and derailed. It was a terrible incident that would take hours to clear and had resulted in several fatalities. After a bit of maths, Maggie realised that the train that had crashed had been the one they were on. All this fuss might just have saved their lives. Ben had been staring at his screen for an age, occasionally clicking refresh to see if anything new had come up either on the One Lens Binoculars site or even on the Unfiction forum. There was nothing. To waste some time, he realised that it might be an idea to actually sign up onto the Unfiction site. At least then, he could get involved in the discussion, like a proper player, and be right there when anything new happened. He picked the username nosetham more or less his last name backwards and the name he always chose for himself on forums and made a first post in the thread about One Lens Binoculars. He wrote, Hey guys, Im a new player. I just stumbled on the site this morning and thought it was pretty interesting. It seems to move pretty slowly though has anyone noticed anything new recently? Cheers. There was no response for about ten minutes, after which a user called TheConstant made a post. He or she said, Hi nosetham. Welcome to the game. Its been pretty fun so far, but weird even by an ARGs standard! Anyway, the site went

down for a while earlier today, but other than that there have been no updates. It might not be for a day or two yet, but I suppose the PM could surprise us. PM meant puppet master, a term often used in these types of games indicating the person or people who were running it. Obviously, Ben knew that this PM was more than just a puppet master he was a killer. Although, Ben surmised that puppet master was probably as good a name as any for him. He was pulling strings left right and centre, leaving clues, playing a game. Ben went and grabbed a bite to eat. By the time he got back, something seemed to have happened. Typical, he thought. A watched pot never boils I Ben suddenly had a scary thought before he even went on the site to see what had changed. Was the killer watching him? It was a hideous thought, but it might make sense. Who was to say that the killer only left a book behind when he broke in? Wasnt it possible hed left a camera and a microphone as well? Of course it was. Ben went on a scavenger hunt. While Reece was hearing from Kate about their troubles on the train, Tom started asking around some of the shelters residents about Paul. A few said that they recognised his name and description but refused to give any more information. Others had flat-out never heard of him. However, they got lucky with one bloke, who called himself Shawn although Tom doubted that was his real name. Shawn was pretty young, in his early thirties at most, and completely bald which gave him a scary look, especially when combined with his larger than average eyes. Reece had gotten off the phone and was talking with him too by this point. Yeah, I know Paul, said Shawn. We served together. Saw action in Iraq. Poor bloke took it a lot harder than I did, thats for sure. What happened to your regiment? Tom asked. I dont really want to go into it. Actually, no, not only do I not want to go into it, but I cant. But bad shit, Ill say that. What happened to you and Paul when you came back? I figure youve heard about Paul if youve been talking to Macquire. The, uh, bloke who puts us up here. Me, Ive got a similar story. Kicked out of house and home when I came back, no money, turned to crime. Yeah, Ive had a few run-ins with your lot since I got back but I was in a bad place. Im clean and sober six months now, havent been in any trouble since. Anyway, I eventually found myself here. I basically live here now, but Im in the process of finding a job, maybe getting myself in somewhere that I dont have to scrounge off of. Good on you, said Reece. Now Shawn, were looking for Paul in relation to a quite serious crime that he might be able to help us out with. Do you have any idea where he stays when hes not here at the shelter? Im not sure I should be telling you stuff like that. Pauls a good mate, the only proper mate Ive got, and Im not a grass. Shawn, listen to me. I appreciate that, and I respect your honesty. But we really need to talk to him. If hes not done anything wrong then hes got nothing to worry about. But we really do need to have a word. Its in his best interests, believe me. Shawn looked uncertain for a few moments before eventually speaking again. Hammersmith flyover. Hes not there every night, but more than most. Beyond that, I cant help you. But you didnt find this out from me, OK? You have our word, said Reece. Thanks a lot, Shawn. Chapter 17: Herrings and Luck Kate and Maggie had to wait around at Winchester train station for another hour or so before a replacement bus service arrived to, at long last, get them to Bournemouth.

They certainly would have been much quicker driving, and probably wouldnt have had two near-death experiences for their trouble. Unless, said Kate, wed been in a car crash. Obviously. You can be very morbid sometimes, Kate, has anyone ever told you that? The words replacement bus service had conjured up in the detectives visions of old Routemaster double decker buses that would speed them down the M3 and M27 in good time and with a decent amount of comfort. In actuality, the buses were single level coaches that could only comfortably seat about sixty people with no room for standing. Despite being a Saturday and the station being relatively quiet when theyd arrived, the bus was heaving with passengers heading for Bournemouth. And, despite being more-or-less the first people to arrive at the station to wait for a bus, so many people had pushed their way into the queue while they were storing their bags underneath the vehicle that they were forced to sit in aisle seats, with Maggie behind Kate. The seats werent the most comfortable in the world, and both detectives were sat next to people who were so interested in their music that they were probably unaware that they were on a coach at all. The driver finally stepped aboard a couple of minutes after Kate and Maggie had sat down. He was a pretty old man with a pockmarked face and greasy, dyed hair that did nothing to disguise his age. He spoke with a very low and slow voice, which simultaneously made him sound bored and as if he were talking to simpletons. Good morning ladies and gentlemen to the South West Trains replacement bus service to Weymouth. To confirm, well only be stopping at the principal stations of Southampton Central, Bournemouth, Poole and Weymouth. If you require any other stops, please either get off the bus now and get another, or change buses at one of the preceding stations. Thank you. May I also remind you that seatbelts are a legal requirement in coaches where available, as they are on this service. So kindly put them on. Thank you. Nobody got off, and soon after the coach was, at long last, on its way. It took around another hour to finally get to Bournemouth, where Kate, Maggie, and a good amount of other passengers disembarked. They retrieved their bags from storage and stood in the outside waiting area of Bournemouth station. There was a large Asda supermarket complex directly opposite them, and a large amount of taxis were waiting in a rank, waiting for work that would not come until all the trains were back on. Maggie estimated that they were at least two hours behind schedule, possibly more, but Kate retorted that theyd have been even more behind schedule had they stayed on the train instead of giving their statements. So what now, then? said Kate. To Bournemouth police station, I suppose! They climbed into the first taxi on the rank, and told him where they wanted to go. Which one? Bournemouth, Winton? Uh, said Maggie, The main one. Wherever that is. Bournemouth then, said the driver as he put on the meter. This was actually what Kate and Maggie had said to him in the first place, but they sensed that he was just being awkward. The drive was probably the least stressful part of the trip so far. It was starting to get quite dark now, and the driver said he was about to head off home for dinner. Kate and Maggie suddenly realised that they hadnt eaten since the morning, and their stomachs started rumbling almost simultaneously. They changed their minds and told the driver to take them a newsagents or some kind of shop where they could get a quick sandwich as close to the police station as he could get. He pulled over near the Bournemouth College an old building situated on a roundabout with a clock tower which seldom worked which was only a very short distance from the station. There was a tiny Tesco store practically next to where he stopped, with a KFC outlet at hand too. They really didnt want to waste any more time, so simply picked up a reduced price sandwich (since it was the end of the day) and bottle of Coke each

from the Tesco. Theyd instructed the cabbie to wait. They were just about to tuck in when the driver pointed out that he didnt like having food or drink consumed in the cab. They tried to reason with him, but he wouldnt budge. He did say, though, that the station was literally around the corner, so if they could hang on about a minute theyd be able to eat there. By the time the driver had finished talking, they were there. They gave him his fare and tore open their sandwich boxes as he drove off. As they climbed the few stairs to the front doors of the station, a few Uniform coppers ran past them in the other direction, followed by an older man in a suit who looked suspiciously like a detective. Kate and Maggie, suddenly feeling exhausted, announced themselves at reception, saying that they were expected. Not for the first time that day, they were instructed to wait. And wait a bit longer. After a good deal of searching, Ben could find no trace of any monitoring equipment, either hidden or in plain sight. He convinced himself that he was simply paranoid, that stuff like that didnt really happen, and decided instead to just sit back down and check out the updates on the site. The One Lens Binoculars site had, indeed, been updated. Not with anything on the homepage, but a new story. This is very quick, Ben thought. Before Carols death, the murders had apparently been very well spaced out. Since her murder, there had been the arson and now this new case. This time, the story was of a man who was out walking his dog. The killer had approached him, tapped him on the shoulder, and then stabbed him in the eyes with two pairs of scissors. Whilst on the floor, he had been carved with the letters MLK, incredibly deeply the story went into great detail about the killer being able to feel his guts and the victim had died of blood loss and shock soon after. The entry was signed with another number, this time 16. This was the third time Ben had seen a number, and they seemed to be counting down. First 42, then 23, and now 16. There didnt seem to be any pattern to them, at least not yet. When Ben clicked back to the homepage, he was presented with another message. Its Ben. I fear for my life. I think Im being watched. Please help me. Meet me in Hyde Park on Sunday at 12 and Ill explain more. I think were getting close to catching this guy, but with one final push we can do it. Take care, and join me if you can. Ben went back to Unfiction to see if anyone had posted. In the past few minutes, the thread had exploded with chatter. Its a live event! was a common quote. Ben clicked around and found that in the Alternate Reality Game genre, live events where the players could interact with the characters, solve clues and what have you in real life as opposed to on a computer screen were pretty popular, when PMs could afford to run them. Of course, this one was no mere event. It was completely genuine. The killer was, essentially, instructing Ben to go to Hyde Park tomorrow. Ben thought that meeting the players would just be a side effect of the real purpose to get Ben there for whatever reason. The phrase Im being watched in the message didnt ease Bens nerves at all. Now he knew the killer had put something somewhere. His frantic searching hadnt helped at all, and he was sure another search would turn up another blank. He instead posted on Unfiction that he would be there, and Hyde Park, tomorrow afternoon. He figured that the killer was probably reading all the messages and had, most likely, worked out that Ben was posting there as well. He seemed to know everything else. After he did that, Ben looked at the time, noticing how late it was. He went to the phone and ordered a takeaway pizza. He ate it in front of Britains Got Talent, feeling very guilty that he wasnt doing anything to help find his sisters killer.

But what more was there to do? Hyde Park was the only lead, and that would have to wait. Reece and Tom arrived at the Hammersmith flyover a bit later than Maggie and Kate got to Bournemouth police station. It was practically dark, and all around them was heavy traffic, both on the ground and above them on the flyover itself. There was a cacophony of noise as engines bounced around the hollow space under the bridge. There was a small group of homeless guys underneath one of the flyovers supports. Reece didnt think that this area was particularly known for its homeless crowd, but it seemed that he was wrong. There were maybe five guys and one dog just sitting around. They didnt have a fire lit or anything of that sort. They were just sat there. One of them was tuning a guitar. Reece and Tom walked over to them and got out their warrant cards. Do any of you know a guy called Paul who apparently kips out around here? said Reece. Im Paul, said one of the men. He was middle aged, had shoulder length, greasy black hair and was wearing a tattered Led Zeppelin tee shirt and hole-filled jeans. In other words, he didnt match the man they were looking fors description at all. Sorry, I dont think youre the man were looking for, said Tom. Yes I am, sure I am! I turned over that offy last week, took a bottle of J.D. I knew someone ud come for me eventually. Reece and Tom frankly didnt care about a stolen bottle of Jack Daniels from a place that was probably unlicensed anyway and so gave their rough description of who they were looking for. Name of Paul. Youngish, brown hair. Used to be in the Army. Oh I know him! said the man playing the guitar. Yeah, he used to kip here practically every night. I aint seen him in a few days though. Some bloke came and took him. This piqued Reece and Toms interests considerably. Taken? said Reece. Yeah. Just came up to us and asked him if he was interested in a job thatd pay well and didnt need much effort. Course, we all volunteered then, but it was only Paul he wanted. What happened then? Paul just vanished? No no. This was a good few weeks ago. Paul still came back here practically every night. We asked him what the job was, but he wouldnt tell us for ages. Then we got him pissed on that Pauls bottle of Jack and he told us that he was meant to keep it a secret. Since he told us, he aint been here. And since you fellas is officers of the law, I dont mind passing the info on. For a price. Tom rolled his eyes and took two twenty pound notes out of his wallet and gave them to the man. He didnt like doing it and it was technically against regulations but this was a solid lead. Much obliged. Paul told us his job was just to walk down this road carrying an old Army bag. That was it? Yep. Every day, just walk down the road with this bag on his back. Well, I never saw the bag and he was pissed, but he was adamant. That was the job, that only. Like I say, since he told us, he aint been around. Tom and Reece looked at each other. Reece had already formulated a gut instinct. The man they were looking for wasnt the killer. The man who had hired him almost certainly was. A large, constructed, red herring. Do you remember what the man who hired Paul looked like? This is very very important. Uh, well he was young. Probably about Pauls age. Actually, thinking about it, he looked quite similar to Paul. Short brown hair. Handsome, if youre that way inclined, I suppose. Spoke well. I wouldnt say there was anything particularly out of the normal about him whatsoever.

Can you not give us a slightly more detailed description, sir? said Tom. This really is important. The man shrugged. Just an average guy. I probably wouldnt even recognise him if he walked past me on the street. FUCK! Reece shouted, making everyone jump. He looked like he wanted to punch something. Guv, said Tom, calm down. Well get the bastard. All of this has been a set-up. Hes playing with us, making us look fucking stupid. Dont let him get to you. Come on, its been a long day, lets get back to the station. They gave their thanks and Reece apologised for the outburst and they began to walk back to the car. Then Reece stopped still and went back to the guitar player. I dont suppose you know where Paul could be now? he said. It was an important question that hed overlooked and it was probably in vain, but it needed to be said. Not really, said the man. Here or the shelter. Thats about it really. Alright, said Reece. Thanks again. He went back to the car where, much to his annoyance, Tom had taken the drivers seat. As Reece approached, he was talking on the two way radio. Reece only got the tail end of the conversation. there right away. Tom put the radio down. Whats up? said Reece. I dont think were going back to the station, guv. Theres been another body found. Chapter 18: Paul Maggie actually fell asleep for a short while whilst she and Kate waited for someone to come and talk to them. They were sat in the reception area of the station for a good 45 minutes before the officer at the desk came and spoke to them for the first time since he had told them to wait in the first place. Ive just been on the phone with DI Harris. He apologises for not meeting you here, but he had to rush out on a case. Hed like you to meet him there a Panda car will take you there in five minutes if youd just like to go out the front. Maggie nearly said something in retort about them being messed around for long enough, but she held her tongue. She and Kate went outside and, sure enough, a couple of minutes later a Panda car came around the corner and parked right in front of them. Two Uniform constables were in the front seats. The driver was a middle aged balding man who looked too unfit to be a policeman, whilst the other was a much younger brunette girl. Kate and Maggie got in the back like criminals. There was some chatter on the police radio on their way to the scene, and the detectives made some small talk about their journey so far that day, but generally it was one of the less stressful voyages of the day. It was completely dark out, and every now and then they caught glimpses of 20-somethings dressed in ridiculous outfits, obviously on their way to one of the towns many clubs and bars. Their destination was a small piece of grassland about ten minutes drive from the station called Redhill Common. It wasnt exactly Hyde Park, but it was a perfectly adequate recreation ground complete with a playground, wooded area and plenty of space to walk your dog. There was a buzz of police activity in the centre of the common. A white forensic tent had already been erected and was glowing from within like a hot air balloon which hadnt bothered to take off. A few Uniform were standing around police tape, trying to hold back spectators three of which were dressed like Superman and a couple of journalists. Forensic techs were wandering around the common at large looking for evidence.

Kate and Maggie were escorted by their Uniformed companions up to the tent. They were shown inside when they flashed their warrant cards. A couple more forensic techs were stooped over a body, whilst two suited men looked on. Kate recognised one of the men as the person whod pushed past Maggie and herself at Bournemouth police station. But that wasnt the only person in the tent Kate recognised. Both she and Maggie leant in for a close look at the corpse on the ground. It was Paul Freeman. Another one? And theyre sure? Reece said as Tom pulled away and put the siren on. His stomachs been carved with the letters MLK, guv. Unless weve magically managed to find ourselves a copycat when theres still been no information released to the press, I think we can be pretty confident in their analysis. Despite Toms persistant complaining when he was in the passenger seat, Reece noted that he was actually a pretty terrible driver, all things considered. Wheres the scene? Reece said. In some scrubland Croyden. Shouldnt take us long to get there. Indeed it didnt, but the trip gave Reece several near death experiences along the way. The standard scene presented itself when they arrived at the location. There were a few forensic techs roaming around by a tent and a few Uniform officers standing about too. Reece and Tom were the first and, they presumed, only detectives that were going to be on-site. The area was a rough patch of scrubland which was actually pretty tough to traverse, even just the few feet to the tent. The darkness of the night didnt exactly help matters either. They stepped into the tent, which actually seemed more of a greenhouse, being as it was surrounded by all sorts of greenery, and looked down at the body without needing any prompting. They recognised the body instantly. It was Paul. Both sets of detectives, some one hundred miles away, had arrived in their respective forensic tents within a few minutes of each other. They, of course, had no idea of the coincidence. But the coincidence did not simply stop there. First of all was the name. Both were Pauls. Although only one had the confirmed surname of Freeman, it wouldnt be beyond the realms of logic to imagine that the others surname was identical. Both victims also looked almost identical. Similar age, short brown hair Then there was the condition of the bodies. Both had been murdered in exactly the same way. Their eyes had been stabbed through with a pair of steak knifes. Then the letters MLK had been carved into their stomachs an incredibly deep cut, as though the murderer were filleting a piece of meat. The forensic techs at both scenes noted that the wounds went through to the guts, destroying them as the imprinting was done. Both techs estimated that the victim would have been alive after being stabbed, and it was the engraving that killed them probably from a mixture of shock and blood loss. Both bodies had been laid out identically, in a foetal position. What wouldnt even be clear from later forensic reports was that the two bodies were pointed so that they were facing each other, a hundred miles away. The killer had been very careful, very precise. There was one more major coincidence, that only the sleeping Ben Matheson would be able to make sense of. Had he known. Oh, had he known. The end was just about to begin.

PART 3: Friend Limit Exceeded

Chapter 19: Numbers

Whats that? said Reece as they finally moved the homeless man named Paul from his originally set position. Underneath his corpse was a number, burned into the grass, as if someone had either used weedkiller or even just covered the patch while it was in the sun. The number was 15. Some forensic techs swarmed around it and took pictures. Eventually they continued to move the body out of the tent and into a van to go for postmortem. Great, thought Reece, another message. A similar message was taking place in Bournemouth, on Redhill Common. It had come to the time to move Paul Freemans body and, again, take it for post-mortem. When they moved his body, another number was revealed in the grass beneath. This was an 8, again marked in dead grass. Neither Kate or Maggie had any indication of what was going on in London, just as Reece and Tom had no idea what was happening in Bournemouth. Both groups decided to call each other at the same time. Reece rang Maggie just before Kate managed to pick up her own phone to call the boss. Hello, guv, said Maggie. Maggie, evening, said Reece. Ive got some news, and not the most pleasant. Well, youre going to want to hear what weve got to say first. Im not entirely sure I can believe it myself. Reece was curious now. You did get to Bournemouth, didnt you? Oh yeah, absolutely. Its what we found here thats so unbelievable. Come on then, give it to me. Freemans dead. He was murdered. Had his eyes stabbed out, the poor fucker. MLK was carved into his stomach and a number 8 was put in the grass underneath his body. Reece was silent for so long that Maggie thought shed been disconnected. Guv? she said. Yeah, Im still here Mags. Fuck. Fucking hell. Umwe followed up the lead on the homeless guy today, had a bit of a wild goose chase actually, and nownow hes turned up dead as well. Exactly the same as your body. Eyes stabbed, MLK carved, number but a 15 - underneath the corpse. Fucking hell. Guv, are you being serious?! I kind of wish I wasnt, Maggie, but I am. Deadly. Weve got identical crime scenes, one hundred miles away. How is that even possible? I dont know. But it means were pretty much back to square one. Paul Freemans not the killer, quite clearly. This Paul the homeless chap is not the killer either. I think we all need to get back together and work this shit out, as soon as possible. I agree, guv. ButI dont really want to ask this, but would it be OK if myself and Kate came back to town tomorrow? Weve had a hell of a day, you really dont even know the half of it. All the trains have been cancelled anyway. Well catch the first train we can in the morning. Sure, I think the two of you have had a long enough day as it is. And besides, the hotels been booked, you might as well use it. Give me a ring in the morning with an estimate of when we can expect you. Ill send someone to pick you two up from Waterloo. Alright guv, no problem. See you tomorrow. Yeah, night Maggie. Youre home late, said Olly to Reece when he finally opened the front door. I was

getting worried about you! He ran over and gave Reece a hug. Reece returned the embrace, but nowhere near as emphatically as his partner. Where have you been? Just working. This big case. Its driving me insane. I think I have a cure for that Olly said seductively. Not right now, Olly, please. I just want to go to bed. Fucking hell! said Olly, practically at the top of his voice. What the fuck is wrong with you? And dont use the fucking case as an excuse. What do you mean? Youre not right. Theres something fucking wrong. Probably with me. Late nights, you dont wantit, you barely speak to me any moretheres someone else, isnt there? Olly, I dont know what the fuck youre on about. Oh, I think you fucking do, Colm. This, all of this, isnt you. There must be someone else. Oh for fucks sake, Olly, listen to yourself. And then listen to me. There. Is. No. One. Else. I love you. I dont think you do, anymore, Colm. I really dont. Im leaving. He walked straight past Reece and opened the front door. Wait! said Reece. Where are you going? I dont know yet. Ill be back in the morning for my stuff and then I think it would be best if we never saw each other again. Goodbye, Colm. He slammed the door. Reece felt his blood boiling and anger fill every cell in his body. Not only had the murderer killed at least seven people, hed destroyed Reeces relationship. He was going to pay. Kate and Maggie fell asleep instantly. Kate had secretly feared that, after the events of the day, that bad luck would force them to share a double bed, like a terrible romantic comedy film. However, the booking had been made quite correctly, and they had a double room to themselves in adjacent rooms. For a change, something had gone right. They both hoped that this would start a new trend for them as they contemplated heading back up to London the next day. They decided theyd check out at about nine and head straight for the station. Just before Kate went to bed, she decided to do something which she knew was reckless but might be of some assistance in the long run. Once shed completed her self-assigned task, she clambered into the comfy bed. Chapter 20: Numbers Ben woke up early, feeling refreshed but more than a little worried. He didnt even want to consider what was going to happen when he got to Hyde Park later. After the events of recent days, he predicted nothing good. But he was committed to acting as a player of the killers game, now and who knew? maybe even the killer would show up and hed be able to apprehend him. He was actually pretty confident that the former would happen, but the latter was something he very much doubted. He went through his morning ritual of showering, eating and, eventually, switching his phone on. There was a text message. He didnt recognise the number, which worried him even more, but he opened the message regardless. Hi Ben. Its DC Kate Walsh. I shouldnt be saying this, but there were 2 more killings yesterday. Do the numbers 8 and 15 mean anything to you? More numbers, Ben thought. He thought about the ones hed found already. 42. 23. 16. And now 15 and 8. There didnt seem to be any logical sense to them at all. There was no pattern, no system, they just appeared to be completely random numbers. But obviously they mean something. He grabbed some paper and a pen and wrote them out in ascending order,

like a lottery announcer. 8, 15, 16, 23, 42. Ben recognised them, but he wasnt sure quite where from. Maybe its a phone number? He added a 0 to the beginning of the ascending sequence to make a useable number (0815) 162342 but just got a dead tone. Of course, they could be in the wrong order, but it would take forever to try all the possible combinations and permutations of the numbers. Ben was sure the answer would be much more simple, much more obvious, than that. No matter how long he stared at the sheet of paper, however, nothing jumped out at him. Ben looked at the clock. It was 11. He had about an hour to head to Hyde Park, but wanted to get there a little early, so walked out his front door and headed towards the nearest Tube station. Reece was the first one into the station. He didnt sleep the previous night, at all, after his argument with Olly. Half of him wanted to stay at home and wait for his partner to come back, so that they could clear the air. But Olly had never done anything like that before Reece was pretty certain that there was nothing to be done, at least not yet. Perhaps in a few days he could track him down and apologise properly. So he went to the station and, not for the first time in recent days, was the first person around. The place was emptier than a ghost town. He got a coffee and sat in his office. He decided to log onto the One Lens Binoculars site. He didnt know exactly why he did, but he felt like it. He was amazed to see such a large amount of content had been added including, of course, a story featuring a person whod been stabbed in the eyes and, essentially, gutted. He found the numbers also and, like Ben, couldnt make sense of them. As well as this, he learned of the meeting in Hyde Park. It was signed off as Ben, but Reece was slowly, in his mind, realising that Ben couldnt have had anything to do with any of this. But he did put enough together to realise that Ben would most likely be heading to Hyde Park in some capacity. Probably not as the murderer, admittedly, but the chances of him not being there were very slim indeed. Tom got in about an hour and a half after Reece had arrived. Reece went through what hed found out from the site. Looks like were heading to Hyde Park, then! Tom said after he was done. It was only about 8:30 at the moment and there were very few other officers of any kind in, but Reece and Tom started working on a plan regardless. Hopefully Kate and Maggie would be back in time. Regardless, the four/two detectives would find some kind of vantage point. The biggest issue was that no specific location in Hyde Park was noted, but something told Reece that it would become apparent once they got there. Theyd also need some armed officers nearby, just in case things went south, or even if the murderer turned up. Reece thought that this was actually quite likely, but since he could strictly speaking look like practically anyone who was a young, handsome male with short brown hair then it would be incredibly hard nay, impossible to tell him apart. Are we even sure about that? said Tom. The whole short brown hair thing came from Paul Freeman, who was just a means to an end. Theres absolutely no guaranteeing that our guy looks anything like him. You make a good point. But if this case has proven anything, its that this killer is particularly cunning. He does everything for a reason, absolutely everything. But at the same time, he seems to want to be caught. Having a vaguely accurate description would help that end. Tom laughed a little bit. He didnt want to it wasnt exactly appropriate but he couldnt resist it. Guv, youre sounding very much like Ben Matheson right now. Reece couldnt resist a chuckle either. Yeah, well, maybe I was being a bit of a fool. Theres a chance hes still our guy, but the chances of that are incredibly slim now, I think. Just a gut feeling. Hed probably be much more of an asset than a

hindrance at the moment. But, as I say, theres a good chance hell be at Hyde Park today. Perhaps I can apologise to him, or something. Just then, Reeces phone rang. Hello? he said. Guv, its Maggie. Morning Maggie. Have a good night? Yeah, not bad, not bad. Were on the train now, well probably be at Waterloo in about anabout an hour and a half or so, I think. Barring anymore incidents, obviously. Lets hope! Got to, I suppose. Had any brainwaves overnight? Not overnight, but Im here with Tom now. Weve been looking over some info that was put on thewell, on the killers website. Were believing that now? Yeah, well, the whole numbers thing sort of changed my opinion. Anyway, it looks like the killer wants to gather anyone whos read the site to Hyde Park at 12 today. Are we going? Yeah, of course were going Mags. Well either catch the guy, or at the very least something importants going to happen. It might just be easiest for me and Kate to go straight to Hyde Park Corner Tube then, guv, rather than have you pick us up. Alright, if youre comfortable with that. Well meet at that station at around 11, then. Sounds good to me. See you later then guv. Alright Maggie, take care. They both hung up. Right, said Reece to Tom. Im going to head up and see if the Supers in yet to get a gun team sorted. I want you to head over to Hyde Park now and do a bit of early reconnaissance, maybe find out which bit of the park this things going to go down in. No probs, guv, right away. Tom left the room and headed for the outside. Reece got the sudden feeling that this was going to be a very bad day. Chapter 21: Speakers Corner Kate and Maggies journey home was not particularly eventful, which they were both incredibly thankful for. They got to Hyde Park Corner at about half 10, so decided to head out into the street and get a spot of breakfast and a coffee before heading back for the meeting. Instead of going into the station proper, they just hung around outside. Maggie, for some reason, felt incredibly nervous, as if she were about to go into a make or break job interview, Kate had butterflies, but she wasnt too bad. Reece arrived at 11 on the dot in a cab. He didnt want to draw attention to himself by taking a police escort. He was very pleased to finally see Kate and Maggie again. It had only been just over 24 hours since he last saw them, but it felt like a damn sight longer, as if theyd been gone for months. Wheres Tom? said Kate. He got here a while ago, hes checking out the Park for anywhere it might happen. Hell be here shortly. I might as well explain the plan whilst were waiting, I told him over the phone on my way here. Alright guv, said Maggie, go ahead. The Supers given us permission to have a unit of marksmen, who are going to be holed up in a van until such a time that theyre needed. You two and Tom are going to be in another van thats on its way with surveillance equipment in it. Im wearing a hidden camera and mic in my lapel how very James Bond which youll be able to see everything through. Ill head into the Park just before 12 and see whats what. And then, well, I guess well have to see how it pans out. Youre not going in there alone, said Maggie. You need some backup. What

if something happens? Then armed officers will be at my side instantly. I dont want to risk anyone else on the team getting injured. I dont care, said Maggie, Im coming in with you. Whether you like it or not. Tom and Kate can take care of the surveillance. Mags, I wont let you. You cant exactly stop me. She had Reece there. He could have threatened to suspend her, or something of that ilk, but that would have been going far too far. Alright. Fine. Just as they were finally agreeing, Tom appeared as if from nowhere. Guv, I think Ive found the spot. Speakers Corner is filled with posters of a pair of binoculars that only have one lens in them. Yeah, that probably sounds about right. Therell be lots of people there right now. Hiding in plain sight or something. Thanks Tom. Reece looked at his watch. It was about 11:15. He got a call on his mobile. Hello? DCI Reece? Weve arrived. Armed unit is just across the road from you in an alley, waiting on your go. The surveillance teams just around the corner. We need you to reposition to Speakers Corner. Myself and DS Chambers will walk to the location, but we need the two vans to be much closer. Have the surveillance vehicle come and pick up our other two detectives. Roger that. The van appeared a few seconds later. It just looked like any old grey Transit van. There was nothing which made it appear to be a police vehicle. Kate and Tom gave their luck to Reece and Maggie and clambered into the back before driving off. Reece and Maggie sighed in unison and walked into the Park. A few seconds after the police dispersed from the area, Ben appeared right where they had been standing, at the entrance to Hyde Park Corner Tube station. It was about 11:20. Ben walked into the park and, unknowingly, followed Reece and Maggie towards Speakers Corner. Of course, he didnt know that Speakers Corner was his destination he was following signs that had been posted on trees and lamps. He was constantly looking around, almost like a meerkat, trying to spot the person whose picture he had seen on the One Lens Binoculars site. The man who looked like almost everyone else. It was an impossible task. The crowds started to build up as he got closer to the Corner. Meanwhile, the man had gotten himself into position. This wasnt quite to be his last stand, but it was getting close. This would be his most audacious attack yet, and after this, Ben Matheson and Colm Reece and his cronies would finally be able to start piecing this whole thing together. Theyd see the majesty of the tapestry the man had constructed right under their noses. Theyd start to see the point of it all. Hopefully. But that would have to wait for the time being. He looked at his watch. 11:25. He had 35 minutes to kill. Kill. Heh. Speakers Corner was packed with people. Most were just casual walkers or tourists checking out one of the most famous spots in the city. They had no idea of the importance of the day. There were a few, well, speakers. There were a couple of Christian preachers as far away from each other as possible, however, and both proclaiming different sermons a Greenpeace activist, an animal rights protester and even one who was parodying the talk going on around him. He had a banner proclaiming, Im a little bit annoyed, but Ill probably get over it. There were a few hecklers in the crowd as well, mostly teenagers just taking the piss for a laugh. Most people were just minding their own business, listen to a couple of the speakers but, in all honesty, probably not all that bothered about what

they were being told. Reece and Maggie went right into the middle of the crowd. It was 11:30. There was half an hour to waste, so they split up and wandered around the area, trying to both blend in and stand out. They wanted to be found by anyone else who was here for the reason of MLK, but they didnt want to seem too obvious. There were a couple of Uniformed police in the area, probably just as security for the speakers, who didnt know anything about what was going to happen. At least, as far as they knew. Tom and Kate were watching all of Reeces movements via the camera he had on. There was nothing particularly exciting happening, that they could tell. They spoke to Reece through an earpiece now and then, with the aim of giving him clues about people who could pose a threat or whatever, but nothing much had actually given them cause to do so. With the crowd, Ben managed to not bump into either detective. He could barely see anyone. Quite why Speakers Corner was so popular he simply didnt know. He couldnt tell who was an Unfiction forum member if any of them were let alone work out where the killer might be. After about five minutes of wandering, he decided to put into action a backup plan that hed come up with on the Tube. This was Speakers Corner, so what was the most natural thing to do? Speak, of course. He found a wooden box that curiously wasnt being used. He assumed that it was just left there by some speaker whod either given up or perhaps theyd even just gone on a break. It didnt really matter to him, frankly. He stood on it and said the first thing that came to mind. Is there anyone here for the One Lens Binoculars event? Anyone? Im Ben. A few people came over including, of course, Reece and Maggie. Fucking hell, he is here! Reece thought. He made his way through the crowd towards Ben. Maggie, on the other side of the area, did the same. It was 11:40. Mr. Matheson! said Reece, as soon as he got in speaking distance. Two or three people had gathered around Ben and were asking him stuff, but he wasnt really listening to them. He did however listen to Reece. Mr. Matheson, what exactly is going on? I barely know myself, detective. Im just trying to find the man who killed my sister, thats all. The few Unfiction players who had gathered around started flinging questions left right and centre at both Ben and Reece. They seemed to assume that both were actors who had been hired by the PM for the event. Reece tried to tell them that this was a police investigation and that they should all go home, even flashing his warrant card, but they simply didnt believe him. They seemed to prefer the fiction of the day to the reality. A rabble started that spread over to the other people in the area, trying to work out what was so interesting about Ben, Reece, and to a lesser extent Maggie. There was such a cacophony of noise and people that Tom and Kate in the van could barely make anything out. It was 11:45. From his vantage point, the man was looking upon all this nonsense with a huge smile. Perfection, he thought. Well, as near as dammit. Everything had gone exactly to plan, if not better. After all, the desired players had all arrived a little early. Not that it mattered. The time was just a means to an end. He was meticulous in his planning. The point where the three roads met was always going to be here, Speakers Corner, even if he hadnt known it at the start. Destiny. Now he had the freedom of choice. He ran through the repercussions in his head. He knew who was safe, of course he still had to see that the plan came to the ending hed mapped out but who was expendable was, if anything, a more difficult decision. There was simply so much choice!

Eventually, he marked them. They would be the unlucky ones, to have made it so far just to fall at the last moment. Oh well. Wrong place at the wrong time, and all that. The man exhaled and put his plan into action. Chapter 22: Action There was an odd sound. It was something that Ben, Reece and Maggie had never had the occasion to hear before, which they could at least be thankful for. But hear it now, they did. It was kind of like someone had taken a very sharp, but small, intake of breath. It was loud if you were close to it, but would probably have not heard it if you were more than a few feet away. Ben, Reece and Maggie didnt know what it was right away. And then they noticed that someone a few people back had fallen. People nearby were covered in sticky red blood. There was a scream. Then they heard that noise again, and someone else fell to the ground in a haze of crimson. The scream had caught on by now, and people were scattering in all directions. Ben, Reece and Maggie were no exceptions. They ran towards a tree, hoping to take cover behind it. As they ran, there was another shot. Another person fell like a sack of potatoes, the momentum of his running forwards combined with the bullet from his side taking him off his feet and making his body roll along the path. The area that Ben had been speaking in was now almost completely clear of people, but they were still running for their lives in many directions. One man remained an old Christian preacher who seemed to be proclaiming that this was the reckoning of Satan and that God would protect him. Reece finally shouted, SNIPER IN THE PARK, GET THE FUCK IN HERE! to the listening tactical team. They would be too late. There was another ping, and the preacher went down, falling off his upturned box and collapsing to the ground in a heap. Four bodies were scattered around Speakers Corner now, and no-one could tell whether that would be all. The man, however, did know if that was all. After all, this was his plan, whether anyone else liked it or not. He was tempted, oh so tempted, to fire one more shot, but he knew that he had to get out. He couldnt be caught; at least not yet. The chances of anyone finding him now were pretty slim, but the actions of a squad of armed policemen was something even the worlds greatest planner for that was what he was, after all could not possibly account for. He calmly packed his instruments away he wasnt made of money after all and headed for the stairs. He made it back to street level just as the tactical team were finally going into the Park. He saw Kate and Tom, too, follow on just behind them. He really had to resist waving at them. Oh well. I guess itll be play time for them soon enough. He rounded a corner and vanished into plain sight. It had been a couple of minutes since the last shot was fired, and Reece was pretty sure that there would be no more. He rushed over to see to the injured. Ambulance! Now! he shouted. All four had been shot clean through the head. He checked the pulses of all four, but found nothing. He wasnt really expecting to. While adrenaline had taken over for Reece, the opposite had happened for Ben and Maggie. Maggie was sat on the floor behind their tree, shaking like the proverbial leaf, while Ben was on the point of throwing up. All that was going through Bens mind was that hed had something to do with this. If he hadnt been here, if he hadnt stood on that box, if those people hadnt

gathered around himhe finally let go of his resistance and ran towards a bin before vomiting in it. The tactical team finally arrived and began arresting people who were running from the scene. They, after all, had no idea of who was responsible. There were, unfortunately, only five of them, so most slipped past and there were no men spare to check the outside of the Park. Reece shouted at them that it was a sniper, that no-one in the park was responsible, and they needed to start searching buildings beyond the park but near Speakers Corner. By the time theyd gotten out of the park, it was already far too late. Tom and Kate arrived just after the armed officers. They both swore under their breath as they saw the bodies on the ground. Reece was moving about the area, clearly distressed, while Ben still had his head in a bin and Maggie appeared to be on the verge of passing out. Tom went over to calm Reece down. He resisted at first, shouting at Tom about nothing in particular, but eventually mentally collapsed. He was on the verge of tears. Tom led him out of the park. Kate checked on Maggie. She was surprisingly together, probably mostly in shock at what shed just seen, but generally she was alright. So she checked on Ben, who was just coming up for air. Shed never seen someone look so pale. Kate led him out of the park, and Maggie joined them. The sounds of sirens, of course far too late, appeared in the distance. A couple of ambulances arrived first, followed by a police van with more tactical officers. Reece almost had a go at them, but Tom stopped him. Instead, they got he and Ben and Maggie got treated in one of the ambulances, but were allowed to go home right after. They didnt.

Chapter 23: Aftermath Reece invited Ben back to the station with the other detectives. Theyd been told to go home and rest, but there was no chance of that happening. Reece at long last had conclusive evidence that Ben wasnt the murderer unless he somehow either had an accomplice or he could literally be in two places at once and knew that his input would be vital in finally tracking down the killer. Ben still wasnt quite with it when he sat down with Tom, Kate and Maggie in the CID incident room. Kate got him a cup of coffee, which went colder by the second in his hands. He really didnt want it. Reece stood in front of them like a teacher about to tell off some naughty pupils. He was silent, but opened his mouth now and then. Everyone could tell that he simply didnt know what he was supposed to say. Eventually, he found his first words. Today we saw something that no human being should ever had to see. We were witnesses to murder, not just any murder, but undoubtedly the latest in a string of murders which has claimedGod, I dont even know how many that brings it up to. Ive had enough. This has gone on far, far too long. No more messing around, ignoring the obvious. WeIhave been blind. This man, this monster wants to be caught. Hes a man who clearly wants to leave a legacy behind, to be a martyr, to become legendary. I say we give him what he wants, and before he gets the chance to take another life. Heres how its going to play out. The Super is going to come down here pretty soon. I know that. Hes going to tell us that were off the case, that weve all become far too close, that he should have taken us off when Nick and his family werewell, when they were slaughtered. But were not leaving this to someone else.

Were doing this ourselves, even if we have to do it without the backing of the Force. Agreed? Everyone nodded and grunted in agreement. Ben, Id like to invite you to fill us in on what youve discovered. I know full well that youve been working on the case without our permission, and Im sure youve probably got a few leads that we know nothing about. So, from the top, if you would. Ben stood up, somewhat reluctantly, and turned to face the rest of the group. Reece took the seat Ben had been in. Um. Im not entirely sure what you know already so I just want to run through the whole story from the top. Alright. So, as you well know, I found a website called One Lens Binoculars which is being run by the killer as a fake game. There are players all over the world trying to play it, but the only people who are suppose to play it are us. Anyway, a few important events happened. First, every kill has been put on the site as a story, and undoubtedly the shootings today will be as well. All of the murders are linked by the letters MLK somewhere on the corpse presumably except for today and the death of your friend, but Im pretty certain that theyll be somewhere. I believe the letters to represent an ancient deity called Moloch, who in the fiction is a demon of great evil. Im not suggesting these are religious killings, at all, but the killer left a book in my apartment called Dexter in the Dark which mentions the letters. There cant be a coincidence. I received that book in the mail said Reece. II barely started it. Shit. Sorry, carry on. Theres been another trend recently, which is numbers. They first appeared as a notation at the end of the stories, and thats mostly where theyve been since. The ones Ive collected from the site so far are 42, 23 and 16. At the most recent murders other than today, obviously we found two more numbers, said Tom. 15 and 8. Of course, said Ben. Alright, so thats five numbers. 42, 23, 16, 15, 8. I tried rearranging them into a working phone number, but nothing happened. It was a bit of a dead end. Lost! said Kate suddenly, almost jubilantly. Sorry? said Reece. Lost! Theyre the numbers from the TV show Lost! Well, with one missing. Oh my God! said Ben. Youre right! They are the numbers! How did I miss that? Uh, anyway, 4s the missing one...or is it? There were four deaths at the Park today. It could well be the last of the numbers. 4, 8, 15, 16, 23, 42, said Kate. Definitely. It cant be a coincidence. Nothing in this case is a coincidence, said Reece. If Ive learned anything today, its that. So, as unlikely as it sounds, we have to assume that Lost is connected to this case somehow. Ive never seen the show, what do they mean? It said both Kate and Ben in unison. Ben gave way for her. It wasnt really explained, as Im sure Ben will attest. They appeared in loads of places, as lottery numbers, as a serial number on a bunker, they were numbers assigned to a few of the characters, all sorts. I think that they were just a binding, said Ben. Tying all the main characters together on the island in some way. Maybe thats what the killers trying to point out to us. No, said Reece, Hes already got MLK to do that. Besides, if the numbers were important in that respect then theyd have appeared on every murder, not just the most recent ones. Anyone else got any ideas? Its obviously some sort of message, said Tom. Maybe it ties in with some of the other stuff hes put in our way. Is there any link between the numbers and MLK? No, theres no mention of MLK in Lost, said Ben. Althoughwell, there is a character whos, I suppose, the embodiment of all evil. I guess theres a link there, but its pretty weak.

Maggie, do you have anything to add? said Reece. It was only now that everyone noticed that Maggie wasnt looking too well at all. Perhaps it was a delayed shock, or perhaps it was completely unrelated, but she certainly didnt look good. Are you alright? Nnnot really guv. I, uh, oh, uh, I think I should, um, maybe, uh, go home. I, uh, I cant deal, not right now, cant deal with all this right now. Reece wasnt going to argue. Maggie was one of the more composed members of the team, so to see her acting like this set him on edge. Kate, can you get Mags here home? Of course, guv. Come on Mags, itll be OK. Maggie shakily got to her feet and leant on Kates shoulder. Kate wrapped her arm around Maggie, as though she were talking a drunk friend home after a night on the town. Luckily Maggie was able to walk alright when assisted. Reece, Tom and Ben looked on in silence as they left the room and headed towards the stairs. God, she was alright half an hour ago, said Tom. Hed really wanted to take her home, but didnt want to speak up over his boss. Especially when they felt so close to cracking the case. Hed barely said two words to Maggie since shed gotten back into London, but he had some big news for her. He certainly would have appreciated the time alone in the car with her, although perhaps, thinking about it, that wouldnt have been the best time to drop such a bomb. His train of thought was interrupted by Bens voice. Detectives, this is going to sounds like an odd request, especially from a civilian, but would there be any chance of me looking over the case files for the previous murders? Reece opened his mouth to say the words absolutely not, but realised at the last second that it might, actually, not be such a bad idea. Alright, he eventually said, but well look through them together, the three of us, to see if there are any clues we might have missed. A fresh pair of eyes, Mr. Matheson, might well be for the best, I suppose. Call me Ben, Detective, please. Only if you call me Reece. Deal. I dont even get to call you by your name, guv! said Tom. I wouldnt object to it. As long as no-one calls me Colm or shithead I dont mind that much! The three of them shared a quick laugh, that subsided once they reremembered the seriousness of the situation. Tom, could you go and dig the files out of my office, please. Id like a quick word with Ben alone. Tom nodded and left them to it. Im sorry, said Reece after Tom was out of earshot. Youve got nothing to apologise for, Reece. I do, though. I should have believed you earlier. Hell, I should never have treated you as a suspect. My original gut feeling was that you had nothing to do with this, but I later changed my mind. I never do that. I was a fool. This case has completely knocked me for six. The sooner its over, the better. Youre not the only one thinking that, said Ben. I want my sister to rest in peace, but Im not going to let this go until the guy responsible is behind bars. Im going to do everything I possibly can to help you. I appreciate that, Ben. Youre a good guy. Thanks. Alright. Lets finish this thing, then. Chapter 24: Connections They took each case individually, working as a group. The first case was of the girl who was killed with a forced overdose of heroin, and then seemingly stabbed with an adrenaline shot to try and revive her. We didnt know what we were letting ourselves

in for, then, Reece told Ben. It just looked like an angry dealer killing one of his clients. Horrible, but bread and butter policing. Until we found out that she wasnt actually a junkie. In fact, we could find absolutely no evidence of her ever being involved in that world. She was a post graduate student of history with an almost perfect life. On top of that, the adrenaline wasnt even adrenaline, it was just saline. It wouldnt have saved her life. The next case was the man who had fallen from the building to his death. Im guessing you thought this one was suicide at first, yeah? said Ben. Thats right. Until we found MLK carved into her stomach, obviously. Dont get me wrong, it was no-where near as bad as the most recent kills. It was more of a grazing than anything. Anyway, the case was originally handled by another team they werent to know the case was connected to the unsolved murder of a woman, after all but got given to us after Tom here was reading the file and discovered the MLK link. Was he pushed or did he jump? Ben said. Thats part of the problem with this case, said Tom. At first, obviously, it was written up as a jump. But once we found out about the MLK thing, we changed tack and assumed the poor guy was pushed off that roof. But at the same time, the forensic report showed that his position when he landed suggested more of a jump. Maybe he was coaxed into it? said Ben. Thats the most likely scenario, said Reece. The next case was the probably the most gruesome of them all. It was a young-ish guy whod been cut in half and thrown into a wishing well. He wasnt discovered for quite some time after hed been killed. Forensics could only give us a rough guess that hed been there for a couple of weeks. Either way, it still made him the third victim. How was he cut in two? said Ben. Sorry to be, well, pretty insensitive. Thats OK, said Reece. We need to get to the bottom of this. The cut was smooth, very smooth. Forensics discovered that he had so much anasthetic in his system that he might even have been dead before the cutting started. Which, if anything, it probably a blessing. MLK was carved into him at some point as well, presumably pre-mortem. They could never quite work out what it was had been used. A simple saw wouldnt have done the job. Their best guess was an industrial buzzsaw. That was actually a lead for quite some time, but it didnt pan out. Is it something we could pick up on now? Probably not, said Tom. That was the only lead we had for a good amount of time, so we worked the hell out of it. We definitely wouldve found something if there was something to find. What about the well? said Ben. Anything with that? Not especially, said Reece. Obviously its a mighty strange place to dump a body it barely fit, if memory serves but we could never find anything conclusive. Theres a reason for everything in this case. The well has to be important somehow, or at the very least the connection between the butchering and the dumping. Lets move on, what was the next case? The next case was a little more unusual. It was, essentially, a series of three killings done in the same style. A teenage girl, a female teacher and a retired judge in her 70s were all killed by two hammer blows to the head. MLK was, of course, carved into their stomachs as well. Another unusual point was that the murder weapon was left behind at the final scene. What was it? Ben asked. A simple B&Q hammer, painted silver, said Reece. No fingerprints, no DNA, wiped clean. But forensics confirmed that it was definitely the right weapon. Huh, Ben said, somewhat absent-mindedly. Reece could see that something in Bens mind was ticking over. What are you thinking, Ben? Nothing, its probably stupid. Lets move on for now.

The next murder was the last before Carols. It was a homeless man who had been strangled, then positioned into a bent over foetal position. Hed then been bitten and had a red ribbon tied around his right wrist. And, obviously, had MLK carved into his gut. This was the hardest one we tried to follow up, said Tom. Finding evidence and witnesses was like drawing blood out of a stone. No-one cares about a homeless bloke. As we later found out with Paul, said Reece. Ben wasnt really listening. Youre probably not going to believe this, but I think I might have a connection, Ben said. What? said Reece and Tom in unison. A connection. And not just the numbers or the letters. But a link between the killings. It sounds completely ridiculous, and it doesnt quite fit in with some of the more recent kills not to my knowledge, at least, but I suppose it might become more apparent but I think it could be a starting point. Ben, said Reece, spit it out, please. Anything you have to say. Media, said Ben. What do you mean? said Reece. The theory is that all of these kills arent just random murders done in a different style. I think that they killer has been influenced by the media. First the numbers and letters from a film and TV series respectively. What got me thinking was the hammer murders. Do you know the Beatles song Maxwells Silver Hammer? I do, said Reece. Something dawned on him the flash lit up his face. Ah! A girl, a teacher, a judge! Sorry, said Tom, Im more of a Stones fan. What are you on about? The lyrics of that song tell the story of a boy called Maxwell who kills his girlfriend, then his teacher, then a judge that tries to send him down with a hammer a silver hammer, said Reece. And the chorus Bang Bang! would suggest two blows apiece. It fits, and it fits well. Alright, said Tom, what about the others? The homeless guy. It sounds exactly like a storyline from the fifth season of the TV series The Wire. I havent seen that, said Reece. II have, said Tom. And hes right. What about the well one? Im not 100% on that one, I have to admit, said Ben. But the heroin overdose and stab of adrenaline kind of reminds me a bit of Pulp Fiction. Its not perfect: in that, its a cocaine overdose rather than heroin, but the principal is the same. Ive just thought of what the well could be, said Tom. If anything, its more ridiculous than any of the others, but that doesnt seem to be an issue, so Ill just come out with it. I cant believe Im saying this, but it doesnt half remind me of one of the final scenes in Star Wars Episode I. Ben made a sharp intake of breath. Yes! Darth Maul being killed by Obi Wan Kenobi! That sounds like it could be about right. I really think were on to something here. Alright, said Reece. How does the roof jumper connect? Ben, you seem to be the expert here, any ideas? The only one I can think of off the top of my head is another Dexter reference, but the TV series this time rather than the book. The Trinity Killer in the fourth season killed some of his victims by making them jump from a high vantage point. But, yknow, people jumping off buildings isnt exactly unique. How do you know all this stuff? said Tom. Hey, you saw how many DVDs and things I havein my flat. There was an odd pause in the middle of that sentence, which Reece recognised as a sort of

realisation. What is it Ben? Reece said. ThatI think thats why he picked me, my family. I suck up so much media that Im well placed toto work out what was going on, I suppose. Im both the perfect person to sort all this out, and the perfect person to frame. God, said Tom, I think you might be on to something, there. Youre mentioned so many times on the One Lens Binoculars site because Because it was always going to be me. That would explain why the number of kills ramped up afterafter Carol. He knew I was involved, was getting closer to working everything out. He wanted to grab my attention, and he got it. Fuck. Am I another connection? The Sherlock to his Moriarty? The Superman to his Lex Luthor? The perfect protagonist to his awful antagonist? Jesus Christ. Ben, said Reece, I know what youre thinking. None of this is your fault. Its all on this bastard. Now, I need you to do something for me. Just keep your head in the game, a bit longer. Were closer now than weve ever been. We cant do this without you, Ben. Yeah. Yeah, OK. Sorry. Kind of started babbling there. Told you I could do that. Lets continue. Next, Ben, is Carol, Im afraid. There are a couple of things you might not know about her murder That she was laid out pointing to the south and west? That was on the One Lens Binoculars site. Oh. Uh. Obviously. Ben, Im sorry we kept some information like that from you. Reece, dont worry about it, honestly. You were only doing your job. I appreciated it, in some ways. They all sat in silence for a few moments, trying to think about where the shooting and pointing could have come from. Reece was just about to suggest that they move onto the next murder, when Tom suddenly piped up, really quite loud. Mr. Burns! he said. Reece was about to ask him what that meant, when Ben caught the drift. Yeah. Yeah, that could work. Theres no sundial, but the south and west thing matches. Reece, its from The Simpsons. The character of Mr. Burns was shot and collapsed on a nearby sundial pointing in the directions of south and west. Its too close to rule out. If you think thats the link, then fine, said Reece. I think that weve got the gist now. This is clearly the killers MO. What it doesnt do is bring us any closer to finding him. Maybe it does. Can I use this computer? said Ben. Of course, Reece said. Ben switched the monitor on it had already been booted up and took the web browser to the One Lens Binoculars site. He quickly checked out the stories page and, sure enough, the sniper deaths had been added. What are you thinking, Ben? When I typed something in yesterday, some weird stuff happened. Im pretty sure I even saw a picture of the killer. What?! Reece practically shouted. Why didnt you say this earlier? Because a) you probably wouldnt have believed me, and b) he looked completely unremarkable. He couldve been anyone, more or less. Theres a good chance I couldnt spot him if he walked past me in the street. Besides, theres no guarantees that its actually him. Ben typed the word media in, in the same manner he had with Saoirse the day before. Nothing happened. He tried a few other key words. Simpsons, Pulp Fiction, Dexter, MLK, 4, 8, 15, 16, 23, 42 and so on. But nothing worked. He was on the verge of giving up when his phone buzzed. He noticed that Reece and Tom were reaching for their own mobiles.

It was Kate, and she had sent a text. Tom and Reece had the same message. It wasnt a message, per se, it was a hyperlink to a YouTube video. Reece was about to open it on his phone, when Ben pointed out that he could just copy it onto the computer screen. The video they watched shocked them all to the core. Chapter 25: Youve Been Framed It was a relatively low resolution video showing a bedroom. Ben recognised it instantly as his bedroom. The killer was in his house again. Then the man appeared on screen. He looked exactly the same as the picture Ben had seen on One Lens Binoculars. He was a pretty young, handsome, guy with short brown hair. There was nothing remarkable about his face at all. Perhaps the most remarkable thing was that he was moving, rather than being just a still image. He took a few breaths, as if he didnt know where to start, and then finally just started speaking. Hello, the man began. He looked somewhat surprisingly awkward to be speaking on camera, perhaps speaking at all. There was a longish pause before he carried on speaking. If youre watching this, which Id imagine you are, thenyoure getting close, I suppose. Which is good. Youll have worked out the big scheme, the overarching plot, as it were, and are now, well, perhaps not at this moment, but about now, thinking about trying to work out exactly where I am. Im afraid, however. Not scared afraid, of course not, but afraid that Im having to be so clichd right now. Although, I suppose, you could say that this whole damn debacle has been completely clichd, right? Sorry, Ill continue. Im afraid that theres been a complication. Its a complication that Im sure youre probably not going to be best pleased about. As you well know, I have already taken out one of your own. Im not even really sure what his name was, to be honest. I never quite got to know him and his undoubtedly beautiful family as well as I got to know poor Carol Matheson before I snuffed her. But cest la vie, right? Anyway, the long and short of it is that Im not quite done with the whole attacking one of your own thing yet. Sorry about that. About an hour ago, before you started running through all of my endeavours once more and yes, I have been watching you two detectives left your police station. One of them is of no consequence and has not been harmed. Well, not much. Youll find her in an alley around the corner. The other, however, is of great consequence. But which one is it? I guess youll have to go to the alley to find out, right? Well, go on then. The man waved goodbye and flashed a grin before the video ended. Reece didnt see that last bit, however. He was already out the door and on his way out of the station, moving faster than he had ever done before. Tom followed him and Ben was a little further behind. Hed stayed in the Incident Room and quickly looked for a hidden camera, but drew a blank. It took about ten minutes of searching. The man hadnt been particularly specific about which alley around which corner. But eventually they found the unconscious form of Maggie, whod been stripped naked. A message had been carved into her stomach nowhere near as deep as the most recent kills with MLK on them, but deep enough that it would undoubtedly leave scarring. It was a strange message. 11 letters and numbers, some upper case, some lower, seemingly completely random. Reece and Tom didnt care about that so much right now and phoned an ambulance. Tom wrapped his coat around her and stroked her head. He was on the brink of tears. Maggie was still alive, and her pulse was quite strong. Shed survive. But what about Kate? Ben tried to talk to Maggie, to wake her up, but Tom kept him away, forcing him against a nearby wall. What the fuck do you think youre doing?! Tom shouted.

II needwe need to work out what that message means. Every minute is vital from now on. Im sorry, but we have to work this out. Ben said all this confidently. Reece almost didnt recognise the man before him. Tom let go, and apologised. Ben turned to Reece. Reece, we need to get back and work out what this means, right now. Kate could be in great danger. I agree. Tom, you stay here and wait for the ambulance. Go with her to the hospital, and Ill call you if youre needed. You two cant do this alone, Tom said. Probably not, said Ben, but we have to try. Reece got out his phone and took a photo of Maggies stomach, being sure not to frame anything private into the shot. Reece shook Toms hand and walked back to the station with Ben. They transferred the message onto paper as soon as they got back. The message was yHgyLa8zurA. Both men tried anagrams first, trying some of their own on paper and, eventually, turning to an anagram generator online. Every method turned up nothing of interest. Bring the video back up, said Reece. It seems weird that this is so abstract. Theres probably a link somewhere between the two. They watched through the video again, and couldnt see anything apparent. As Ben was thinking, rolling his eyes around his head and thus the screen he spotted something. The web address. YouTube videos were categorised by a collection of letters and numbers after the main address. What were the characters again? Ben asked. Reece repeated them, and Ben typed them after the youtube.com address. He pressed enter. As if by magic, a new video appeared. This time, it did not show Bens bedroom. Instead, it was a much more grim surrounding. It was made of concrete walls and metal. Just to the left of the shot was the rear end of a car. Both Ben and Reece realised almost in tandem that it was the inside of a mechanics garage. Then the man appeared once more. He appeared to be a little more confident in his speech this time, almost as if hed rehearsed it hundreds of times. Hello again. I see you found your friend. Well, not see, videos only one way as far as Im aware, but I gather. Youre probably wondering what happens next. Well, this helpful tutorial video will ease all your worries. Look over here. He picked up the camera and spun it around to the left. Reece and Ben could see the car more fully: it was a black Ford Escort, which Reece assumed was the same one that he and Tom had heard about when they were investigating the arson at Nicks. Theyd been so caught up in finding Paul the homeless Paul that theyd overlooked it. After the camera was spun, Reece and Ben saw Kate. She was sat in a chair, bound with rope and gagged. She was struggling a little. Behind her was a small office area through a windowed door. The man spoke off camera for a moment. As you can see, your other friend, Kate Walsh, is entirely unharmed. For the moment. She wont remain in such a state for much longer. I felt like giving you, her, a clue as to what her end would be, but Ive had enough of playing these short little games. Im beginning to lose interest. So Ill just come out and say it. You know the film Reservoir Dogs? Theres a particularly famous scene featuring someone being bound and tortured. You probably know it. The man came back onscreen. But, you know, that doesnt have to happen. Not necessarily, uh uh. Ben, Id like you to come and meet me, right here. But you and only you. I dont want you, DCI Reece, and your police cronies coming anywhere near this place. Trust me, I will know. And if any coppers come within a mile of this place, she dies. And Ben. Just for good measure. Something tells me youll be a little pre-occupied, though. You see, way back before this whole thing started or, at the very least, before I murdered sweet Carol I did something really quite reckless. There is a skyscraper in this fair city well,

there are a lot, arent there? but one in particular. Its called Sharkling House, a place youve probably never heard of that houses a few insurance companies and the like. Its pretty uninteresting and frankly unimportant in the grand scheme of things. What matters is that I have planted a bomb there. Its gone undetected for weeks now. This- he brought a small, cigarette lighter shaped object with a red button into view -is the detonator. It looks very detonator-y, doesnt it? Ill use it, too. He pushed the button down, making Ben and Reece flinch a bit, for some reason. Not yet though, he continued. You didnt seriously think this was a detonator, did you? Have you never watched Spooks? God. Anyway. Ben. You must come here alone. Im going to text you the details shortly. Reece, you can do whatever the fuck you want, frankly, but you should know that the bomb is set to go off at 2pm today. You can think Im bluffing if you want, but I wouldnt recommend crossing me. Youve already seen what I can do. Many times. Ben, Ill see you soon. Reece you may never see me again. Bye! The video ended. Ben and Reece were stunned for a moment. Bens phone buzzed after a couple of minutes of this stunned silence. Reece checked his watch. It was 12:34. In less than 90 minutes, according to the killer, the bomb would go off. Reece didnt even want to think about how many people might die. He needed to catch the killer, but he also needed to ensure the safety of Kate, Ben, and the general public. Im going alone, said Ben. Reece didnt think that there was much of an opposing argument. I think thats probablywell, no. Its not for the best. Chances are you wont be able to take this guy down. I know that. But Kate will die if I dont go by myself. And many others will die unless you find that bomb. I know. I need to get moving. Ben, its probably best if you dont tell me the contents of the message you just got. Ill only want to come along, and I dont think we can possibly risk that. God damn. Reece got out a business card. You havent got my number. Call it if anything goes south. Dont call for any other reason. I wont. Good luck, Reece. And you, Ben. Reece stood and left the room. Ben read the message. It was, as anticipated, an address. It was on the other side of town. He left the station and headed towards the closest taxi rank. Its alright, the man said to Kate. All of this will be over soon. If everything goes to plan, youll leave this place alive. If it doesnt, you wont. But try not to think like that, eh? Everythings gone perfectly up to now. Someone must be looking down on me. He walked out of her vision. Kate rocked from side to side, trying feebly to break free. It was impossible. She would just have to wait, and hope. Chapter 26: The Plan, I Ben arrived at the garage after travelling for about 20 minutes. He paid the driver, who he then instructed to get as far away as possible. The garage was in a pretty rundown area of the town, with basically no redeeming features. The garage appeared to be abandoned, just the same as the majority of the buildings around it. Ben could hear music from somewhere, but he couldnt quite make it out. He was shaking heavily. He had no idea what he was supposed to do. The garage was split into two main sections. To Bens right was a small office area with a standard door leading in. But next to it, to Bens left, was a much larger part which looked almost like a small warehouse. It had huge metal sliding doors and, he assumed, that was where the work would have taken place. It probably could have held three of four cars easily. Ben walked up to the sliding doors. The music got louder as he got closer,

although he still couldnt quite make out what it was. He certainly recognised the tune, though. The sliding doors were firmly locked. He rattled them from side to side but they simply would not budge. He decided to try the main office door. Ooh, do you hear that? the man said. Youre friends trying to open the main door. I guess that means hell be here in a second. Time to get ready. He spun Kates chair around to face the office. That done, he took a knife out from his pocket. The rattling at the sliding doors stopped. Reece had gone to the Super again, who was actually just on his way down to see Reece and the gang or so he claimed. Reece thought that if he had any interest that he would have met with them much earlier it had been well over an hour and half since the shootings. The Super started to babble on about how he wouldnt rest until those responsible were caught and that Reece and his team should take the rest of the day off, when Reece suddenly raised his voice. SIR! he shouted. We know who did this. We received a message from him earlier. Hes planted a bomb somewhere in Sharkling House. Is the threat genuine and serious? said the Super. Absolutely. Any chance that this is a hoax is negligible, and Im sure you can appreciate that even if it were a hoax we need to get people out of there right now. Ill call the bomb squad and make the arrangements. You really should go home though, Colm. As if thats going to happen, thought Reece. Yeah, probably. Thank you sir. The Super trotted off back to his office while Reece headed outside to his car. He began driving into North London, but got held up by traffic. At about 1, his phone buzzed. It was a text message. There is no bomb at Sharkling House. Its at Gervis Towers. The timing remains the same. If I hear of any evacuation or the arrival of police other than yourself at Gervis Towers, the girl dies. Hopefully I timed that message right, said the man to Kate. I figure hes on his way to Sharkling Towers but still has plenty enough time to head in the other direction to Gervis Towers. Unfortunately, his bomb disposal buddies wont. Shame. I guess hell have to play the hero and disarm it all of his own accord. Ben opened the office door and stepped inside. It was pretty small, with only a single, completely unused, desk and a worn out filing cabinet in the corner. There was an old water cooler in the corner, with nothing in it. He recognised the door in front of him as the one hed seen behind Kate in the second video. The music was much louder now, and he recognised it instantly. It was Stuck in the Middle by Stealers Wheel. The music from the torture scene in Reservoir Dogs. Ben suddenly wasnt entirely sure if he wanted to open the door. But he had very little choice. He walked over to it and looked through the window. He saw Kate sat in the chair and the killer stood just over her. He was holding a knife in one hand. With the other, he beckoned Ben through. Reece didnt know how to react to the text. How would it be possible for the killer to know if he instructed the bomb squad to a different building? How would he know if Reece didnt show up alone? But hes already proven that he knows exactly what were doing at any given time, he thought. He looked at his watch. He had the time to get to Gervis Towers, find the bomb, and get the bomb squad over to him. If he was quick. But if he did find a bomb with very little time left, hed either have to defuse it or die. And, likely, take a good few innocent people with him. It was not a choice he wanted to make. He headed towards Gervis Towers

without telling anyone where he was going at the exact moment that Ben opened the door. OOH, dont come any closer, said the man with mock anxiety. Ill do it, you know I will, he said, in all seriousness. Kates eyes lit up when she saw Ben, although she was still anxious that he apparently had no official back up. Let her go, please, said Ben. We can talk about this. Not really anything to talk about though, is there Ben? What were you hoping, that youd convince me to release her and hand myself in? Not in a million years. That just doesnt suit the plan, Ben. The plan. You mentioned that before. What plan? The man smiled. Now youre talking! Chapter 27: The Plan, II Everything that I have done has gone exactly to plan. I foresaw all of this, and know that it is about to reach its denouement, the man said. How could that possibly be true? said Ben. You think I must be psychic or something, right? Well, no, nothing quite so wacky and fanciful as that. Ben, to repeat a phrase, you and I arent really so different. Both of us raised on pop culture and new media, we know our Shield from our Wire, our Call of Duty from our Halo, our Muse from our Radiohead. I put it to you that everything that has transpired has not just been not hard to predict, but its been easy. At least from my perspective. Admittedly, there was very little chance of you knowing that I would kill your sister and Im not sorry for that, by the way or that I would commit arson on the family of a detective, or that I would ask you to meet me right here. That, to you and Reece and everyone else, must have seemed really quite random. But for me, it was all perfectly laid out, a way of keeping you all in arms reach without allowing you too close. Like Paul Freeman. I needed someone who looked just enough like me that if I was ever recognised and a victim escaped, somehow, suspicion would not fall directly onto me. Freeman was perfect. A junkie whod run away from home and would do anything for money. His only task for me was to make sure he rode specific trains at specific times. And that was it. On just that one point, the police this young lady included ran right to Bournemouth to try and find him. When they were getting close, I simply popped down there and did him in. By the time I got home, no-one was any the wiser. The other Paul just kind of fell into my lap. I had to be sure of the various roads and locations around Nick Tallmans house, but simply driving around would undoubtedly have provoked attention. So I simply hired a homeless man, who again looked a bit like me and coincidentally shared Freemans first name, to act as a kind of placebo. A homeless bloke who might well be a junkie who walks the area of an arson for weeks before it happens and then suddenly disappears? Who else are you going to suspect? As a matter of fact, if Reece had bothered to check, the homeless Paul did not venture around the area on the day of the fire. Thats because he was already dead. You dont honestly think I killed two people in tandem, do you? I did tip the police off to the homeless Pauls corpse location, mind you. Couldnt exactly leave that up to chance. The police were perfectly predictable in their lines of enquiry. I was never in any danger at all of being captured until I felt the time was right. You were predictable as well, I have to say. Although I did construct the website in that way just so that I could guarantee your predictability. In fact, in this entire thing has gone exactly to plan, like a detective novel. Except in one small respect. Whats that? said Ben, who was actually getting quite tired of the mans

incessant talking. In all honesty, it wasnt really sinking in all the way he was more concerned with working out how he could take the man out without him hurting Kate. You and this one. He pointed towards Kate. When I heard that she was to be your liaison officer, I figured that the two of you wouldhow to put thisget it together. You didnt. Does that matter? Not really, in the scheme of things. I thought that this would have meant a bit more to you if you were together, though. The man brought the knife down next to Kates ear. Stop! said Ben. Kate was squealing beneath her gag. Stop? said the man. Ill stop when I want to stop, thank you. With his free hand, he very quickly grabbed her ear and, in one swipe of the armed hand, sliced it clean off. Kate screamed in agony, although the noise didnt quite come through the gag properly. Oops, said the man. Tears streamed down Kates face. Ben had barely flinched. After his momentary paralysis had worn off, Ben motioned to take a step forwards. Uh uh, said the man. Not one more step until Ive finished my story. He threw Kates detached ear to his right, towards the black car. Heres how this is going to work. Reece arrived at Gervis Towers at around the time that Kates ear was being amputated. It was 1:15. He had used half of the time, and was still not sure about how to proceed. He went into the building. It was a pretty old skyscraper, built at least three or four decades ago, and was the home of a large amount of companies which werent of any major impact on the world scene. One was a mens grooming company, another was a pretty small insurance company, another was a computer games business, there were all sorts. Reece got the monkeys in his brain working overtime, trying to work out where a bomb would have been hidden in the building. He went over to the receptionist, a woman in her thirties with startlingly bright red hair. Clearly, he wasnt going to say anything blatant. Excuse me, I dont suppose youve seen anyone plant a bomb in this building over the past few weeks, have you? Only, its about to go off. Excuse me, he said. How can I help you? she replied. She sounded completely uninterested in their conversation already. Reece got out his warrant card. Im DCI Reece and Ivegot reason to believe that theres someone in the building who could be related to an ongoing case. Whats his name? she said. Well thats just it, Reece said. Im not entirely sure. But I would recognise him if I saw him. Is there any chance that I could have a look around the building? Maybe on a guest pass or something? Oh, said the woman. Yeah. Probably. I mean, youre a policeman and all. She leant under the desk and produced a card on a lanyard. Do you want someone to show you around? Oh no, absolutely not, Ill be better if Im alone. Is there anywhere Im not allowed to go? Uhfloor 19 you probably shouldnt go up to. They dont appreciate visitors unless theyre clients. What business is up there? Its an advertising business. One of the stuffier ones in the building, to be perfectly frank. The guest pass will get you in there but you might be asked to leave. Hell, they dont even like having IT guys in there, even when they asked for them to be there.

Reece thought that floor 19 sounded pretty much perfect, and headed towards the lift after thanking the receptionist. He couldnt, of course, be certain that he was heading to the right place, but it was as good a place as any to start. But then he had another thought, and rushed back. Is there a guestbook or anything that I would need to sign? Ordinarily, yeah, but since youre with the police its not necessary. Is there any chance I could take a look at the book quickly? Of course. She pointed to a computer terminal to her left, which Reece hadnt noticed was facing outwards into the lobby rather than inwards behind the desk. Its electronic? Is there any way to search entries? Hang on. The woman came around the counter and went to the terminal. She typed something in. You can now. Thank you very much, Reece said. He searched for the name Paul Freeman. It was a long shot, but it just might work. Sure enough, a Paul Freeman had visited the 19th floor about seven weeks ago. It worked, roughly at the very least, with the timeframe it was some time before Carol was killed but fit alongside other murders as well. Reece once again made for the lift, far more confident this time that he was heading, at last, in the right direction. Chapter 28: Dead Man The bomb at Gervis Place is a fallacy. There isnt one? said Ben, who was shaking quite badly but trying to keep his composure. First hed seen four people getting shot, now hed seen a woman have her ear sliced off. It was hardly the best of days. Oh no, there is. But its not actually on a timer not a conventional one at least. No. And its not activated by remote trigger either. The man started to take his shirt off. Underneath was a concoction of metal, plastic and wire that looked like futuristic bondage gear. The centrepiece, placed right over the mans heart, was a circular digital clock, which was counting down. There was around 45 minutes remaining on the timer. Whwhats that? said Ben. This is my masterpiece, Ben, the man said. The culmination of the plan. This harness is linked to the bomb on a dead mans switch. If I die before this timer runs out, the bomb will detonate within two minutes. But when the timer does run out, it will deliver a cocktail of lethal drugs directly into my heart, killing me, although without detonating the bomb. Either way, the wearer of this harness will die within the next hour. The question is whether Ill take a floor full of innocent workers with me or not. And Ben was struggling to speak. And yes, Ben, you get to ask that question. But I defer it to you. I dontwhat the fuck are you talking about? How the fuck is that thing even real?! Its real because I made it, Ben, isnt that obvious? Im kind of clever, if you havent already worked that one out. Youre a fucking maniac is what you are, said Ben. Oh! Feisty one, you are. This doesnt even fit with your mental fucking plan! I dont remember ever seeing this in any film! Thats because its not in any film. Or anything of the sort. This is all on me. Although, who knows, maybe theyll make a film about all this in the future? Write a book? Maybe a TV show? How great would that be? Shut the fuck up and stop this right now!

Oh alright then. Youre forcing my hand. Ben, in all of this, I have been the villain and you the hero. Surely you can see that much? Well, now its time to step up to the plate and do something truly heroic. Because if you dont, a lot of people are going to die. See you on the other side, Ben Matheson. The man still had the knife in his hand, covered with Kates blood. He brought it up to his neck and with one swipe slashed it. Blood came pouring out of the wound, with arterial spray going everywhere. Ben, if he were a hero, should have stepped forward to try and stop him. But instead, he turned away, and nearly fainted when he spun around again. The man was still alive, but the spray was getting weaker and weaker. Ben found the strength to move forward and take the gag from Kates mouth. She was crying, and covered in both her own and the mans blood. She was trying to say something. Ben was comforting her. He assumed she was trying to tell him to untie her, but eventually she spoke loud enough over her tears for Ben to understand her. Two minutes. Ben looked down at the mans dying body. The spray was still there, but incredibly weak. The timer was still counting down around 35 minutes were left. The spray stopped. The count flashed three times and then changed to a different one, showing two minutes. It began counting down with a beep every second. Ben froze. Reece reached the 19th floor and stepped out into a maze of cubicles. It seemed more like a call centre than an advertising company. A balding man in his forties walked up to him. Excuse me, the man said, just what do you think youre doing up here? Im a detective, said Reece as he got his warrant card out. And I need to search this floor right now. Well, if youve got a warrant then well happily let you look around. I dont have a warrant, as you probably know. But this is a matter of life and death. Either you let me past, or Ill force myself past. He and the man stared at each other for a moment, before Reece was finally allowed to pass. He started looking into every cubicle to the disgust of many and going behind every door. He eventually came to a plain red, but slightly chipped, door and opened it. There was a mass of blinking lights, wires and whirring gears. He glanced around and then left again, checking all the places he was yet to look. Where would I hide a bomb for seven weeks? It had to be somewhere that wouldnt just be stumbled upon by anyone, but at the same time somewhere that would be easy to access. He went back into the server room and gave it a more thorough look around. He didnt quite know the best place to search. He checked behind the computers, tossed a few wires willy nilly thankfully not causing any damage before a brainwave hit him. He looked up. There was a ceiling tile which was slightly out of place. He moved a chair over and stood on it, before sliding the tile out of the way. There were more bundles of wire up here, which he shoved to the side. Eventually, he saw something there. A briefcase. He slid it out and took it to the floor. Inscribed along the side were the now familiar letters: MLK. He opened it, slowly. Inside was a small black box with a few wires poking out of it and leading to other areas. There was a digital display on top of it, too, which didnt read anything. It looked just like a electric transformer that had been fiddled about with too much. Below the box in the case were several grey-white blocks, which Reece assumed to be plastic explosive. He wasnt exactly an expert, but there looked like a lot. And there was no guaranteeing that this was the only one in the building. Reece was just about to pick up his phone to call the bomb squad the killer be damned, when the digital display on the box flashed three times. Then three digits appeared. 2:00. It began counting down, a second at a time. 1:55. 1:54. 1:53. Ben just stared. What exactly was he supposed to do? The killer was

dead, his heart had stopped beating, and now the bomb was about to detonate, somewhere on the other side of the city. Then he came up with a plan. It was a stupid plan, reckless even, but he thought that it was what he was meant to do. We went over to the killer and turned his body over. For such a frightening piece of technology, it was only bound onto him by one clip on the back. He removed the strap. The counter continued. 1:15. 1:14. 1:13. Ben took his shirt off. He reached his arms in first. All of this was behind Kates back she couldnt see a thing. Ben what are you doing? Ben didnt answer and continued to put it on. 1:00. 0:59. 0:58. It fit him pretty much perfectly. He noticed a slight tingling sensation in his chest, similar to sticking a giant plastic sucker onto his skin. He reached around the back and struggled to attach the clip himself. 0:34. 0:33. 0:32. COME ON! he said through gritted teeth. 0:25. 0:24. 0:23. He got it. It clipped in. Ben felt another tingling sensation on his chest, this time followed with a grinding sound, of metal on metal. The clock continued. 0:12. 0:11. 0:10. Finally, the grinding stopped, and so did the beeping of the clock. Ben looked down. It had stopped at 0:07. It flashed three times and was replaced by the larger countdown timer again, with 33 minutes remaining. That done, he went over to Kates chair and untied her at long last. She stood feebly before collapsing to the ground. She had lost a lot of blood to go along with her ear. Ben reached into his trouser pocket the device looked a lot heavier than it was, and he was quite free to move his limbs at will. He took out his phone and dialled 999. Emergency services, which service do you require? said a young mans voice on the other end of the line. Ambulance, said Ben. And police as well. Bomb squad. Im tied into a bomb. Technically he wasnt, but he knew it would get the operators attention. A bomb? said the man. Yes, thats what I said. Theres a woman here whos lost a lot of blood, and another man whos killed himself. Were in the old garage on East Howe Lane, get here as soon as you can. Ben didnt notice it in himself, but he was more confident in his tone of voice than he had been since this whole thing had begun. Perhaps it was adrenaline, or perhaps something else entirely. Reece continued to swear at himself, practically in tandem with the clock counting down. He called bomb squad right away, hoping they could give him some advice. They couldnt. Reece was so panicked that he didnt really explain what the device looked like properly, and without that information the technician could tell him nothing. Instead, he decided to evacuate the floor. He rushed out of the server room shouting BOMB, EVERYBODY OUT NOW!!! Barely anyone paid any attention, clearly thinking he was madder than a hatter. By the time he got back in the room, there was around 30 seconds remaining. He said a prayer, asking for forgiveness for any wrong he had done particularly to Olly. In the last 10 seconds, he closed his eyes, waiting for death. But death didnt come. He opened his eyes after about 10 seconds to see that the timer had stopped at 0:07. He didnt know why, or how, but he thanked God regardless. He called the bomb guy again, saying the timer had stopped and that they needed to get there as soon as possible. No sooner had he hung up, it rang again. Reece? said Ben. Ben. Whats happening? Uh, its kind of hard to explain. Have you got the bomb?

Yeah, it stopped with a few seconds left. Jesus Christ, that was a close one. It still is kind of close. I thinkshitI think in half an hour Im going to be dead, Reece. I really oh fuck, help. Please, help. Bens adrenaline-fuelled confidence had completely worn off and he broke down in tears on the phone. Ben, Ill be there soon. Hold on. How is Kate? Shesalivebut oh shit. Ive called, called the ambulance itll be here soon. God. Fuck, Reece, you need to get here now. Reece was not the first one at the garage. There was already two ambulances and a squadron of police cars outside. It seemed that no-one had gone in, though. Reece stepped forward to enter, but was stopped by a couple of armed police. He protested that he was a DCI and that they had to let him past. Theres a bomb in the building, sir, we cant let anyone enter until we know its safe. Trust me, I can solve this. Just let me in, now. The police shared a look before one of them nodded his head. Reece walked between them, into the small office area. He saw Ben on the other side, who looked incredibly relieved to see a familiar face. Reece noticed the harness and the timer, which had around 15 minutes left. Kate was lying on the floor in front of him and another man the killer, presumably, was unconscious behind him. Reece went into the garage without any further hesitation. Reece! said Ben. Fucking hell, wheres the ambulance? Outside. Reece went over to check on Kate first. He was disgusted to see that shed lost an ear. Oh fucking hell, he thought to himself. At least she was unconscious, but still alive. He needed to get the ambulance in. Ben, we need to open these big doors. Some police will probably try to get you to surrender but Ill talk them over. Kate needs medical attention. Surrender?! What the fuck are you talking about, I havent done anything?! They think youve got a bomb on, Ben, and it sure as hell looks to me like you have. Its not a bomb, its a suicide device. If I die before it hits 0, the bomb you found will go off. If I dont die before it hits 0, it kills me but the bomb doesnt go off. Fuck, Reece, I need someone to take this thing off me soon or Im going to die. I wont let that happen, Ben. But Kate has to be the priority right now. Now help me with the doors. Alright, OK. Doors. They walked down a short ramp, past the black car, and reached the huge sliding doors. They were chained up in a relatively loose knot, which they undid pretty quickly. They took a door each and slid them out of the way. Ben! Reece said, Put your hands up so that they know youre unarmed! He did. The police outside were lined up behind their squad cars, the armed ones closer to the front. Down on the ground! one of them shouted. No, said Reece, This man means no harm. We need an ambulance in here immediately. RIGHT FUCKING NOW. Ben got down anyway, and was swarmed by police in heavy suits. Two paramedics rushed past the squabble and started work on Kate and the killer. Its not a bomb, Reece said to the bomb technician who looked most in charge. There were around 15 minutes left on the timer. Ben allowed to sit up, and recounted the events of the afternoon. He broke down in tears as he saw Kate being stretched off and at several other instances too. All the while, technicians looked around the suit, trying to see if there were any safe way to take it off. They could see nothing. The timer continued to count down. Ben started to accept that this was going to be his end, that he would never see another day, that he would meet Carol again soon. The technicians apologised. Ben said they had nothing to be sorry for it was not their fault, after all. Reece also apologised and shook him by the hand. There was

no reason for this, he said the killer was just a maniac, pure and simple. They backed away. Ben stayed sat, tears streaming down his face as the numbers counted down. Not long left now. Ten seconds. Five. Four. Three. Two. One. Ben closed his eyes tight and thought of Carol. Epilogue The surgeons were unable to reattach Carols ear. She would be permanently scarred, but could at least be thankful that she had survived. Maggie, too, made a full recovery, and was offered a skin graft to remove the scarring from her belly. She refused, saying it would be a perfect reminder to never be so weak again. She and Tom decided to get together on a full time basis soon after. The killer was never identified. His fingerprints and DNA were not on police databases and dental records drew a blank as well. He would be known in future reports and books about serial killers would simply call him MLK or The Mystery Man. Reece never saw Olly again. Reece got home after seeing Kate in hospital to find that all of his clothes had vanished, all of the pictures with him in had gone and that there was no trace that he and Reece had ever been together. Reece cried himself to sleep that night. As did Ben. Nothing had happened. The device had just counted to zero with no consequence. Many days and weeks later, when he was brave enough to think back, he theorised that the killer had thought armed police would assume he was wearing a bomb. Then, they would have shot him. It was twisted enough to be the truth, certainly. If that were indeed the case, then Ben could be happy. Not only had he survived, but his life turned around. From that day, rather than becoming more of a quivering wreck as might have happened to other men he grew in confidence and lived a happy life. He even fulfilled a sort of prophecy by starting a relationship with Kate. The death of Carol had nearly destroyed Ben Matheson. But it had also started his life anew. He had become a hero.