‘Have you got anything else?’

‘Bits, it’s hard though. There’s lots of blood but we haven’t found anything that doesn’t belong to the victim at the moment.’

‘That’s brilliant. Will you call me if you get anything else?’

‘If I can.’

Jessica hung up. Things had suddenly become interesting. She still didn’t know if Robert Graves was connected to the other victims but they might finally be able to build a case if the fingerprint came back as Donald McKenna’s.

When they arrived back at the station, things were still frantic. With the e-fit being shown on every news bulletin, calls had been coming in throughout the morning with members of the public suggesting the person’s identity. Everyone would have to be checked and eliminated. News had also spread internally about the fingerprint and most of the officers seemed convinced the cracking of the case was just hours away. Jessica hoped so but kept her thoughts to herself.

She went up to DCI Farraday’s office to let him know what Robert Graves’s parents had said. He had calmed down from when she had seen him earlier that morning but was still convinced everything was linked together. She nodded along as he gave her the official news that a fingerprint had been found, not knowing Adam had told her first.

Jessica took some time to help Rowlands sort through the list of leads that had come from the phone calls. They were stuck between two different types of investigating. On the one hand they were waiting for lab results that could either help or hinder their case but, until those came back, they were using a more traditional method – assessing the phone calls. A couple of specialist officers would also be going to the Graveses’ house to look through Robert’s possessions, although Jessica wasn’t convinced they would find much.

After a while, she left the constable to it and returned to her office. She was desperately hoping her phone would ring with news from Adam but spent her lunchtime skimming through Internet news sites. Some of the coverage was based on fact but a few of the opinion pieces infuriated her. There was one in particular that caught her eye on the Herald’s website.

Martin Coleman was a name and face she recognised. He was a local councillor who seemed to have an opinion on everything. Jessica could remember a story recently where he had been campaigning against the implementation of a slower speed limit on a local road. She couldn’t remember the exact details but searched his name through the site. It soon became apparent why he was so familiar; he really did get himself around. Over the last couple of years, he had been in the news for everything from backing cuts at the local hospital to explaining why some school fields needed to be sold off.

Jessica had never been interested in politics and figured he was entitled to campaign for whatever he wanted but the comment piece he had his name on that morning really annoyed her. Under the headline ‘WHY VIGILANTE HAS THE RIGHT IDEA’, he had written hundreds of words about how crime was out of control, eventually reaching a conclusion that said, if not explicitly, that perhaps whoever the killer was had the right idea.

Jessica made a quick phone call and then stormed out of her office. This was one chat she was definitely going to enjoy.

Jessica had deliberately shown her identification as many times as she could in the council chamber’s reception area while asking for Martin Coleman. Over the phone, she had established he was in the building but hadn’t bothered to actually ask for a meeting. Instead, she turned up, parked the pool car she had taken on double yellow lines outside the building and bounded in asking everyone from the security guard to the receptionists to other people in suits if they knew where she could find the councillor.

She knew full well she could have just asked once at reception but, by flashing her identification around and mentioning his name as often as possible, people would put two and two together and make five. Rumours would be circling around the building in no time about a local detective asking after a prominent councillor.

Jessica figured that if she had tried to make an appointment, she would have had to wait for a few hours, if not days. Within five minutes of her throwing her weight around, Martin Coleman walked forcefully into the reception area. At first he spoke to one of the security guards to ask what was going on. As soon as she spotted him, Jessica made sure she was standing directly in front of the reception desk where there was the maximum number of people within hearing distance.

The councillor’s greying hair was swept back tidily. Jessica guessed his suit cost more than her car, although admittedly that wasn’t saying much. His shiny expensive-looking shoes echoed on the hard floor as he walked towards her. It was clear to Jessica he was furious but, with council staff and members of the public present, he was desperately trying to hold things together.

‘Can I help you with something, Detective?’ he said as sweetly as he could, forcing a smile and offering his hand for her to shake.

She ignored it. ‘I just need a few minutes of your precious time, Councillor.’

‘I’m pretty busy. You could always have made an appointment . . .’

‘I’m afraid I’m in the middle of a multiple murder investigation, I didn’t really have time to jump through hoops.’ Jessica made sure she emphasised the words ‘multiple murder’, just in case anyone nearby couldn’t hear.

The councillor looked quickly from side to side. ‘Right, right. I think we should probably do this somewhere more private. Do you want to come with me?’ He led Jessica out of the main hallway, up a wide flight of stairs and down a couple of corridors into a wood-panelled room with an enormous ceiling.

He sat behind a large desk and pointed to the seat on the other side of the table. Jessica ignored him, standing next to the chair instead, looking down upon him. ‘Why is it so important you had to speak to me now?’ he asked.

Jessica walked over to a window and looked out onto the street below. ‘Nice view you’ve got.’

‘Sorry?’

‘Nice view. Nice office too.’ Jessica paced back towards the desk and started fiddling with a lamp, twisting the top part around towards her and then turning it back again.

‘Detective?’ The man sounded as much confused as he did angry.

Jessica finally stood up straight and looked him directly in the eyes. ‘“Endemic incompetence”,’ she said.

‘What?’

‘“While feral youths run wild on our city’s streets, the city’s police officers are more focused on prosecuting motorists than catching the real criminals”.’

‘Oh right, yes, the article.’

‘“Policing has been too soft for too long and I for one am sick of it”.’

‘I’m not sure what you want me to say.’

Jessica could remember perfectly the choice quotes from his article. They had been spinning around her head throughout the drive from the station to the council chambers as she got angrier. ‘“There’s fear on the city’s streets tonight but for once it’s the right people who are scared”.’

‘Look—’ the councillor started to say but Jessica cut across him.

‘Have you ever had to break the news to a parent that their child has been murdered, Councillor Coleman?’

‘I don’t see what that has—’

‘How about identifying a dead body, have you ever done that?’

The man stumbled over his words as Jessica put both palms face down on his desk and leant forwards, daring him to meet her gaze. He looked down at the computer keyboard on his desk and nervously glanced sideways towards the phone.

‘“Vandals once wrecked my car but all I got was a token visit from the police. You have to ask yourself in these situations, is this a good enough service?”’ Jessica was quoting him again.