Murphy waited at the car for Rossi to finish speaking to Mary Byrne. Through the living-room window he could spy Arthur, still sitting in the chair were he’d left him. Murphy leaned against the car, blowing some warmth into his hands as the surrounding air became cooler by the second.
‘New best friend?’ Murphy said as Rossi made her way down the path towards him shaking her head. ‘I just hope you got something more than I did.’
‘She told me a story.’
‘I bet she did,’ Murphy replied, opening the door and getting inside the car. He whacked on the heating as soon as he’d started the engine, shaking his head as Rossi got in and removed her jacket. ‘Do you not feel the cold?’
‘I do, but it’s still warm out. It’s you getting older and feeling an invisible draught everywhere we go.’
‘Less of the old. Come on, what did she say? We need to compare notes.’
Rossi explained what Mary had told him, Murphy cutting in every now and again to confirm the similarities and differences between the two stories they had been told.
‘What do you reckon then? Think it has anything to do with his death?’
Murphy paused for a few seconds, trying to make sense of the information they had so far. ‘Everything is jumbled up at the moment. It’s like we’re getting parts of a complete story, but it’s all out of order. We need to go back to the beginning and work out where it all starts.’
‘Because the start would be somewhere else?’
‘You talk back a lot more these days.’
‘You can blame that on me getting older,’ Rossi replied, smirking and running a hand through her hair. ‘I think you’re right. Nothing has made sense yet. It’s quite obvious that he and his friends at university have possibly raped a young woman – maybe women – and it’s been hushed up by his father and his powerful friends. Is that enough for someone to take revenge on him in this way years later?’
‘I think we’ve both seen revenge taken for much less.’
‘True, I suppose,’ Rossi said, giving Murphy the go-ahead to pull out after checking the road on her side was clear. ‘I still think we’re missing something.’
‘I’m hoping CCTV and forensics from the flat will clear up his last movements. That’ll answer a few questions.’
‘He was cut up. That’s not something you do unless you have something against the person. Surely? This is either another ever-so-delightful serial killer on our shores, or it’s personal.’
‘Could be both,’ Murphy replied, hoping he was wrong. ‘Weirder things have happened around here lately.’
‘Ever think we’re getting more violent?’
‘Not us personally, I hope?’ Murphy said, flashing Rossi a grin. ‘Unless you want to confess to something?’
‘No, I mean as a species. Seems like everything is getting worse the last couple of years. Murder in the news, on the streets . . . enough to drive you to drink or religion.’
‘It’s never as bad as that.’
Rossi tapped her fingers against the dashboard as she leaned forwards. ‘Think about it. I’ve heard coppers themselves say they don’t want to go to Liverpool One or the Trafford Centre because they’re worried about being killed in a terrorist attack. We have domestics every damn day, which seem to be becoming more violent every time. People are starting to treat life like it’s a bloody video game.’
‘It’s never as bad as you think,’ Murphy said, grin now disappeared. It was a conversation he’d had with Sarah on occasion. Especially now. What kind of world were they living in? ‘There’s always bad in the world. That’s just the way of things. Before these bad guys, we had other bad guys. We just know about every move this lot make, because they want us to know. We know every damn thing these days. I’m not even forty and I remember a time when I didn’t know everything a shitty group halfway round the world was doing. It keeps them going, knowing we’re afraid.’
‘We shouldn’t fear?’
‘Of course we should,’ Murphy said, trying to look past Rossi as they pulled up to a junction. ‘But we can’t let it control us. We’re scared of the wrong things, that’s all. We should be scared about how we’re going to fill the time we have on this planet. Not what could end it.’
‘Suppose so,’ Rossi replied, moving back against her seat finally and allowing Murphy to see out of the passenger-side window. ‘It’s still frightening.’
‘I don’t think we’re in the best position to judge how violent society is anyway. We see too much of the bad to be non-biased. It’s like some coppers – uniforms usually – who think everything they see on shift is the truth about society. They think there’s a bunch of scroungers and benefit cheats out there, because that’s all they deal with day to day. They think all the residents from certain estates are lost causes, and that Katie Hopkins is the voice of bleeding reason.’
‘Not all of them,’ Rossi said, but even Murphy could tell she wasn’t in total opposition to what he was saying. ‘And it’s not like CID is much better.’
‘True. We’re all human. Some of us can’t think much for ourselves, that’s all. We’re all led by our own prejudices.’
‘Confirmation bias.’
Murphy turned to look at Rossi, a question mark on his face. ‘What’s that mean?’
‘It’s a psychology thing. You need to learn this stuff now Sarah is studying it. Basically, we all look for things that confirm our own preconceptions. So, you have someone who has grown up believing a certain group is a certain thing, usually by being taught that information from a parent or similar. They become a copper, spend every night breaking up fights and taking down burglary reports. That all feeds into that bias. Like people who think all students are lazy, or all Muslims are terrorists. Doesn’t matter if you come along and show them it’s a small minority doing those things, it’s already in their head that a certain group of people who are all the same.’
‘How the hell did we get here?’
Rossi peered through the windscreen. ‘It’s the right way, what are you talking about?’
‘I don’t mean on this road,’ Murphy said with a laugh. ‘I meant onto this subject. It’s a bit heavy after the day we’ve had.’
‘I have no idea. Nice to know you have a soapbox though. Big improvement from the dour one-note guy you were when we first started working together.’
‘Careful, Laura,’ Murphy said, giving Rossi the side-eye. ‘I’m still the boss round here.’
Rossi mimed pulling a zip across her mouth and throwing away a key.
‘I’m just tired, that’s all,’ Murphy continued, one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting against his forehead. ‘I have no idea what the hell has happened the last couple of days. We weren’t even supposed to be given a case like this in the first place. Now we have a dismembered body, a possible historical sexual assault and a Z-list probable MP with a secret flat filled with bloodstained walls and bed, and a bunch of sex toys I don’t even want to think about.’
‘That’s about the size of it,’ Rossi said, digging around in the glove compartment. She pulled out her phone. ‘I’m going to find the seven other people in that photograph. Even if it bloody kills me. Simon Jackson is the first on my list. Put me down for a late one tonight.’
Murphy grunted in response. He stopped in the car park behind the station before pulling out his own phone.
‘I’ll follow you up,’ Murphy said. Rossi raised a hand in response, still staring at her phone as she walked away from the car. Murphy checked a few emails, deleted some updates. He brought up his contacts and scrolled to W. For wife.
‘Hey, it’s me,’ Murphy said when Sarah answered. ‘Going to be late home, so don’t wait up if you’re tired or anything.’
‘No worries,’ Sarah replied, the sound of the TV being muted suddenly in the background. ‘Might still be up anyway. First lecture tomorrow.’
‘Nervous?’
‘A little bit, yeah. Also want to get ahead of the others. Do a bit of studying, you know?’
‘There’s a bottle of white in the fridge, but keep the red on the side for me, will you? I will drink it at some point.’
‘That’s what you always say. I think Jess had that the other day.’
Murphy shook his head, adding ‘ring Jess’ to his internal list of things to do. ‘Of course she did. I’ve got to go.’
‘Have you eaten? Only I know what you’re like . . .’
‘I will get something here now.’
‘Make sure you do. And be careful. I’m not paying off this mortgage on my own if anything happens to you.’
‘I’ll be at the office, so unless there’s a terrible stationery injury, I think I’ll be OK.’
Murphy heard a muffled laugh over the line, quickly shut down. ‘Watch those staplers. Speak to you later.’
Murphy said goodbye and ended the call. The car park was quieter now, the light fading around him. He could hear the traffic from the nearby road, still busy for a Tuesday night, as it always seemed to be.
The incident room was bustling with activity when Murphy entered it a few minutes later. The detective constables still on duty were huddled in front of screens, going through CCTV from various sites in the city, a few sergeants were being updated by Rossi in another part of the room. DCI Stephens’s office was empty and dark, which was unsurprising. The perks of being higher up in the food chain, Murphy thought.
‘Graham,’ Murphy said as he reached his desk. ‘How are you getting on with the CCTV?’
‘It’s much as the guy at the scene said,’ DC Harris replied. ‘Here we are, I’m just piecing the whole thing together now.’
Murphy waited for DC Harris to cue up the footage, then watched the screen from over Harris’s shoulder.
‘There’s the car being driven down Queens Drive, approaching the roundabout. He goes onto Edge Lane, then takes a right into Warnerville Road. Reappears at the bottom of Talbotville. You obviously can’t drive back onto Edge Lane from Talbotville, so it looks like the site was chosen specifically for the fact that it was on a busy road, but not easily accessible.’
‘Maybe,’ Murphy replied, studying the footage, wishing not for the first time the technology was better. ‘Seems to be being driven carefully. Nothing erratic or irregular there.’
‘If I could get closer, I bet he’d have his hands at the ten and two position.’
‘So, where did he come from before Queens Drive?’
DC Harris sighed and opened another file of footage. ‘I’ve got him joining from Mill Lane, near the Premier Inn in West Derby. Before that, we’re trying our best. Looks like they’ve come from the Croxteth area, but it’s difficult to pick him up at that time of day. We’ll get there.’
‘OK, I understand. What about after the car is dropped off, have we got him leaving?’
‘Yes,’ DC Harris replied, moving to another file now. ‘Here we go.’
The car appeared on screen again, parked up near the bollards at the end of the street. A figure in black got out of the car and moved to the boot of the car, his back to the camera. ‘He’s working very quickly,’ DC Harris said, leaning back in his wheelchair. ‘Confident like.’
‘There’s our friend there,’ Murphy said, pointing to another figure nearby. ‘Look at the way he’s just hanging around waiting. On the rob or what?’
‘Look,’ DC Harris said, slowing down the footage. ‘It’s almost like he glances towards the camera here, but his face is covered.’
‘Zoom in as much as possible,’ Murphy said, looking around for a chair but settling for leaning against the desk when he couldn’t see one. ‘That’s it, is that the best we could get?’
‘Yeah, pretty much. Sorry, but I think we’re dealing with someone who didn’t want to be seen.’
‘Where did they go after that?’
‘Back down Talbotville Road and into the estate there. Lost him, sorry.’
Murphy stood up, shaking his head. ‘At least we know our friend from the scene was telling the truth. Keep looking. See if he reappears anywhere nearby in the hours afterwards.’
‘Returning to the scene, you mean?’
‘Yeah,’ Murphy replied, looking over towards where Rossi was crouched behind another desk. ‘Sometimes they do that.’
‘No problem. I think Jack has something from the flat for you.’
Murphy nodded and looked around for DC Kirkham, but couldn’t see him. The television at the end of the room caught his eye. He grimaced when he saw who was on screen.
DSI Butler, in all his livery, stood holding court in front of the media. He had a grave look upon his face as the ticker along the bottom of the screen informed the country of the breaking news.
PROSPECTIVE CONSERVATIVE MP FOUND DEAD IN LIVERPOOL