The Puppet Show (Washington Poe)

‘Let’s get to work then,’ Flynn said.

Twelve hours later and they were all in a foul mood.

They hadn’t found the slightest hint that the men might have known each other. They hadn’t been in the same golf clubs, they hadn’t sat on the same charitable boards and, on the few occasions they’d eaten at the same restaurants, it was at different times. Bradshaw had managed to get their supermarket loyalty-card details, and they hadn’t shopped in the same stores. Reid rang Gamble who promised to re-interview their neighbours and friends to see if anything was missed, but Poe’s theory wasn’t looking good.

Adding to their misery was the fact that the room wasn’t working. Due to the constant interruptions, they couldn’t put anything confidential or graphic on the wall. Tea and coffee being delivered, the events manager checking they didn’t need anything, and on three separate occasions residents walking into the room thinking it was the dining room. One numbskull twice.

And at the end of the day they had to take everything down and pack it away as it wasn’t a secure room.

Although this was only the first time they’d sat down with everything laid out, the sense of despondency was palpable.

There was a knock on the door and the events manager popped her head in. ‘I know you said you didn’t want to be disturbed, but can I just check you don’t want menus brought in for the evening meal? The dining room’s about to shut.’

‘Can I make a suggestion?’ Poe asked after she’d left. ‘Why don’t we work from my house tomorrow? Downstairs is open plan and about the same size as this room. I don’t have rules about pinning things to my walls, and it’s more secure than this place. Plus, most of the time I’ll be there anyway.’

‘I don’t know about that, Poe,’ Flynn said. ‘You’re supposed to be the next victim, remember.’

‘All the better that I don’t have to travel back and forth to the hotel every day then. If anyone’s going to try and grab me, it’ll be when I’m out on the moor on my own.’

There was a moment’s silence while Flynn considered it. ‘Tilly?’ she asked. ‘Would you get a signal up there?’

‘If I don’t, I’ll tether my phone to anything we need internet access to.’

‘How would we get there?’ Flynn asked Poe. ‘I was happy to tramp across as a one-off but I’m not doing that every day.’

‘I’ll leave you and Tilly my quad. Any stuff you need to bring can go in the trailer.’

‘What about me?’ Reid asked.

‘You? You can fucking walk,’ Poe said.

Reid grinned.

Everyone looked at Flynn, waiting for her decision. ‘Well, it’s got to be worth a try. Today was a disaster.’

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Poe collected Edgar then returned the quad to the hotel. The walk across the fells to Herdwick Croft was invigorating. The fading light had turned everything a rich shade of crimson. Edgar ran off to chase a rabbit but soon came bouncing back. Poe doubted he’d know what to do if he ever got near one.

He fixed himself a simple supper: a cheese and pickle sandwich, a bag of crisps and a cup of strong tea. The day might not have been a success but Poe was sure he was right; the Immolation Man was targeting his victims using more than just age and wealth. He reordered the thoughts in his mind. He hoped he was right. If he weren’t, then somewhere out there was an organised, forensically aware, technically proficient serial killer who liked to castrate and burn people.

And he was next.

Although Edgar would howl like a wolf if anyone approached the croft at night, for the first time since Poe had lived there he locked the door and shuttered the windows. Surprisingly, he slept well. Not a single nightmare.

As soon as he woke, Poe knew they were in for another glorious spring day. He boiled an egg, walked Edgar, then waited for the team to arrive. Reid had walked over from the side of the road and got there first. Flynn and Bradshaw arrived on the quad moments later.

Bradshaw shouted with delight when she saw Edgar.

‘You didn’t tell me you had a dog, Poe!’ she squealed. For the next ten minutes work was forgotten, as Bradshaw and Edgar became best friends. The spaniel, who’d always been an attention junky, made a beeline for her and lathered her in licks and dog hair. Bradshaw shrieked with laughter and hung her arms around his neck as if afraid he’d run off. Poe passed Tilly some treats to give Edgar and their friendship was cemented.

‘Remember, Tilly, if he shows you his lipstick, don’t touch it,’ Reid said, winking at Poe.

Bradshaw buried her head in the spaniel’s neck. ‘You don’t have any lipstick do you, Edgar? What a silly goose DS Reid is. He must mean your penis.’

After they’d laughed at Reid’s open-mouthed look of astonishment, Flynn called them to order. ‘You can play with Edgar later, Tilly. We need to crack on.’

Poe had opened all the windows and spring sunlight beamed into the room. The ground floor of Herdwick Croft was rectangular, without fancy nooks and crannies. Two windows at the front, none at the back and one door. Poe explained that, years ago, during bad winters the shepherd lived upstairs while the sheep sheltered in the room they were in now. It offered them protection from the cold and warmed the building. The walls were the same on the inside as they were on the outside: exposed, roughly quarried stone. The ceiling beams were old and sturdy and black after a century of smoke. A wood-burning stove dominated the room. It had wood inside but it hadn’t been lit yet. Despite the warm day, Poe would light it later; it was how he heated his water.