When the Evil Waits by M Lee (top fiction books of all time txt) 📕

from the tram. ‘This was taken at 6.23 on the morning of 23 July near the tram station at Sale Water Park. David’s body was discovered on the other side of the river in Chorlton Ees. We believe it is the same car as the one on the abduction tape.’

‘But we didn’t search across the river.’

‘Exactly, Julie, that’s why I want you to expand the search area to include the Mersey, the area around Jackson’s Boat and Sale Water Park.’

‘But… but… It’s been two weeks, boss, and that area is immense.’

‘It has to be done, Julie. Make it happen.’

‘Yes, boss.’

‘The observant among you will notice that both Sale Water Park and Wythenshawe Park are on the same tram line to the airport in one direction and the City Centre in the other. Does our perp take the tram to work? Or use it regularly? Tomorrow we will question every commuter on the line between seven and nine a.m. asking them if they noticed anything unusual. I’ve also asked Greater Manchester Passenger Transport Executive for help. Alan, you will co-ordinate this work.’

‘Yes, boss. Resources?’

‘The uniformed branch will provide and there’s no problem with the overtime.’

An unknown voice from the back said, ‘The plods will be happy.’ This was followed by laughter.

‘This is not a matter to joke about,’ snarled Claire Trent. ‘We have a seven-year-old child who has been abducted and murdered and his body dumped in a park. Worse, the criminal profiler is convinced the killer will strike again.’ She paused, taking two deep breaths and regaining control. ‘After more than two weeks’ work, we don’t have a single suspect.’

She let her message sink in then continued, ‘We are on our last legs, people. The powers that be have given us three more days to sort this out and find our perp. If we don’t, they’re gonna bring in some “specialists” from the Met and the National Crime Agency to “assist” us. We all know what that means. I’m not having some wankers from London coming here telling me how to do my job. I’ve promised our bosses I’ll have this sorted in three days.’ She paused again, standing up straight and staring at each detective individually. ‘You all know me, I don’t make promises easily. Right, you know what to do. Get out and do your jobs. We meet again at six this evening to regroup. Ridpath – in my office. Now.’

She walked towards the door and then stopped in the entrance. ‘I want this perp caught. Understand?’

‘Yes, gaffer,’ came the instant reply from the detectives.

Chapter 76

He’d finally worked out what to do. He couldn’t wait for an opportunity to arise any longer, the need was too great inside of him.

A hunger, a terrible hunger, needing to be sated.

The visit to the cinema earlier in the week had given him the idea. On Sundays there would be plenty of families there but not too many. The social distancing rules were still in place.

He had scouted the area yesterday. There was somewhere to park the Corsa within easy walking distance of the cinema. If somebody asked, his son was feeling sick and needed to go home.

He’d checked for CCTV. There was none in the parking area. Workmen were digging up the street nearby but they weren’t likely to be working on a Sunday. He’d take a quick look around to make sure.

It meant he wouldn’t have as much control over the victim as he’d like but beggars couldn’t be choosers, as his mother used to say.

He wouldn’t rush his time with the boy, whoever he was.

There was no need to rush.

Not any more.

Chapter 77

On his way to Claire Trent’s office, he was accosted by Paul Turnbull, who had obviously been lying in wait to ambush him.

‘Don’t you ever cut me off again like that, toerag.’

‘I just did my job – you should have done yours.’

‘You should have done yours, sir.’

‘Of course… sir.’

Ridpath found himself pushed against the wall, looking down at the bald head of the smaller man. ‘You’re not fit to lick my boots. You should have come to me with your new evidence.’

‘You wouldn’t have believed it.’

‘Wouldn’t I?’

Ridpath shrugged him off. ‘You were too convinced that Michael Carsley was guilty.’

‘He was guilty. He is guilty, I know it.’

‘You’re right, he is guilty. He took the blame for something his wife did in Scotland and he’s guilty of being unable to bring up his family in Manchester. But you know what…’

‘I’m sure you’re going to tell me.’

Ridpath jabbed his finger in Turnbull’s chest. ‘I’d rather have ten of him than one of you. And one more thing, if you ever touch me again, I’ll have you up before Professional Standards quicker than a Manchester bus goes back to the depot.’

Turnbull stared back at him. ‘I’m going to get you, Ridpath. It won’t be today, it might not be tomorrow, but one day, when you’re least expecting it, I’ll grind you down till there’s nothing left but a couple of hairs on your chin. Everybody feels sorry for you because your wife was murdered, but I don’t care. I don’t like you, I don’t like the way you work and I don’t like your attitude. Now, piss off and see your fancy woman. I know you two have a past, and I’m going to find out what it is sooner or later. When I do, I’m warning you, I’ll take both of you out.’

He adjusted his tie, smoothed down his non-existent hair and walked away. ‘Remember, one day…’

Still gritting his teeth, Ridpath knocked on Claire Trent’s door. He’d have to think about Turnbull later. The last thing he needed was a senior officer determined to make his life miserable.

‘Come,’ he heard, and entered.

‘Sit down.’ She pointed to a chair in front of her. He sat down and she continued.

‘As you can guess, Paul Turnbull wasn’t too chuffed when I showed him your evidence last night.’

‘I know.’

She raised an eyebrow. ‘Oh, how?’

Ridpath wasn’t going to grass on a senior