The Night Stalker

Jack tried to shout, but his mouth was slack; his voice came out slurred and weak: ‘Whouw harrr ou?’

‘Just someone who wants fifteen minutes of fame,’ laughed the voice. Jack heard the sound of a zipper and a crackle, and then a plastic bag slowly slid over his head. The hands moved fast, pulling at what felt like a drawstring, and Jack felt it gather and tighten around his neck. He started to breathe faster, and the plastic crackled and closed in around his head, growing tighter against his skin. One eye was clamped shut, but the other was trapped open by the plastic. And then there was no more air to breathe.

Night Owl held on fast to the plastic bag, enjoying the sounds: the rattling gasps and retching. Jack carried on thrashing, his strength increasing with his will to live. Night Owl felt an explosion of pain as Jack’s head jerked up and made contact with Night Owl’s face. Night Owl increased the pressure, pulling the cord around Jack’s neck tighter, and bringing a fist up and slamming it down on the squashed, contorted face underneath.

One of Jack’s last thoughts were that the photographers might still be outside, and what a great story this was going to be.

Finally, with a shudder and a weak whimper, Jack was still. Night Owl lay with Jack’s body for several minutes, watching, breathing through the euphoria, shaking with excitement.

Then Night Owl rose silently and slipped out of the house like a shadow.

28

It was early the next morning and, despite the hour, the heatwave had intensified. It seemed to have permeated the walls of Lewisham Row station. Despite the fans being on full power, the incident room was roasting. Moss was standing in front of the whiteboards, addressing Erika and the team.

‘There were no prints found on the picture frame in 14 Laurel Road, but we have had a positive ID on one of the young men seen by Gregory Munro’s neighbours opposite,’ she said. ‘Last night, Marie and Claude Morris were able to give us this e-fit image.’

Erika and the rest of the officers regarded the face which had joined the photos of Gregory Munro and Gary Wilmslow. It was of a young man with dark hair swept back off a high forehead and a lean, handsome face.

Moss went on, ‘DC Warren decided to broaden his horizons and spent the best part of the night cruising profiles on rent boy websites…’

There were several wolf whistles, and Warren rolled his eyes and blushed.

‘And we now have this…’

Moss pinned up a profile photo from a website called RentBoiz. It was remarkably similar to the e-fit image. The handsome young man who stared into the camera had the addition of green eyes and designer stubble. Moss paused and wiped her forehead with her rolled-up sleeve, and nodded over to Warren.

He stood, a little shyly. ‘Um, okay. His profile name is JordiLevi and on the website it says he’s eighteen years old and London-based. He charges £250 an hour, and it seems that he’ll do most things if the money is right. Of course, he doesn’t give his real name or an address. I got in contact with the website administrator, who said that registration is anonymous, so no joy there, but I’ll keep working on it.’

Moss gave him a wink and he sat back down. ‘Now, we can all agree that this looks like the same guy.’ She indicated the e-fit and JordiLevi’s profile picture. ‘I think this could be a real breakthrough for us.’

There was a round of applause. Erika got up from where she perched by the printers, her heart heavy.

‘This is great work, Moss and Warren, thank you. But I have to let you know that after careful review with Detective Chief Superintendent Marsh and the Assistant Commissioner it has been decided that this is a case for one of the Murder Investigation Teams who specialise in sexually motivated murders,’ explained Erika. ‘I’d like you all to ready your files and the data gathered so far, and this afternoon the case will be transferred over.’

‘Boss, can’t you see how huge this is? If we can track down this JordiLevi, he could be our direct link to the Gregory Munro murder. He could have witnessed something!’ said Moss.

‘We just need time, boss,’ added Crane, ‘and we wouldn’t need much. We’re gonna set up a fake punter profile on RentBoiz and arrange a meeting with this JordiLevi. He might be able to give us an e-fit of whoever it was who called round at Gregory Munro’s house and we’d have our suspect.’

‘I’m sorry, this isn’t a debate,’ said Erika. Moss sat back in her chair, folding her arms in frustration. ‘I don’t like this any more than you all do. Please have your reports and all data relating to the case ready by noon.’