Freddie gripped her half-drunk cup of coffee, staring at the screen. On the chair next to her she’d spread out her printouts. On the other side sat Chips. He’d eaten most of his Polos by now and the air smelt minty fresh. Green sat behind them.
‘We’ve got your laptop, Liam.’ Saunders casually sat back in his chair while Nas sorted the photos and papers they had. Her hair was tumbling over her shoulders and she kept shaking her head as if to flick it back. Liam, who was fidgeting in his chair, kept looking up at her, then back down at his hands. ‘We’ve seen the photos. No point lying anymore.’
Liam didn’t respond.
Nasreen’s voice fluttered through the mic. ‘It was quite something how you managed to get hold of all these images, Liam.’ She looked straight at him. ‘I’d have no idea where to even start!’
‘Did she just giggle?’ Green said.
‘Yeah,’ Freddie said, aware her coping mechanism was kicking in. Make jokes. Draw attention away from the frightening reality. ‘It’s like watching Police Barbie. Saunders is Ken.’
‘More like GI Joe,’ she said. Freddie laughed.
‘It’s working though.’ Chips looked impressed.
Liam’s tongue was practically on the floor. His eyes were wide and the words were falling out of him. ‘It’s not hard once you know how to do it.’
‘But how did you even know where to start?’ Nas was breathy.
‘You just have to know the right people.’ Liam was pleased with himself. A sour taste filled Freddie’s mouth. She took a gulp of coffee.
‘People who know big fancy-pants London lawyers?’ Nas giggled. Did she just quote Saunders? Brilliant.
‘It doesn’t impress me,’ Saunders sounded petulant.
‘Shush!’ Nasreen flapped a hand at Saunders. Her voice sing-song Disney, ‘I wasn’t talking to you, silly.’ Chips spat his coffee out. Freddie laughed. On screen, Saunders scowled, and folded his arms over his chest in a sulk.
Liam looked like he might burst with pride. ‘Bet he wishes he was on Mr Cooper’s list,’ he said, quickly glancing at Saunders to check he wasn’t about to get punched. Saunders simply glowered.
Nasreen put her elbows on the table and leant on her hands. Channelling Marilyn Monroe. ‘How did you get on the list, Liam?’
‘Jesus, are all men this easy?’ Chips said.
‘You’d be surprised, sir,’ Green said. ‘She’s doing a great job though.’
‘The lad will need a cold shower after this.’
‘So will Nas,’ Freddie shuddered. She felt soiled just watching.
‘The chosen get a special little black book.’ Liam had pride in his voice. ‘I’m one of the chosen warriors.’
‘I’ve heard that before,’ Freddie said. ‘On the website. That’s what Apollyon’s Revenge said. Hold this.’ She pushed her mug at Chips and rummaged through the papers.
‘That sounds cool,’ said Nasreen.
‘It’s like an elite special force,’ Liam said. It sounds like a cult, thought Freddie, the Apollyon fanboys springing into her mind.
‘How’d you get selected?’ Nas asked breathily.
‘You have to prove yourself. Complete a task.’ Liam could’ve been talking about an honourable act, not sharing revenge porn online.
‘What did you have to do?’ Nasreen sounded enthralled.
‘You’re looking at it.’ He tapped the table in front of him.
‘What did he touch?’ Freddie looked up.
‘The photo of the suicide note,’ Chips said. ‘Christ. Someone else told him to do it.’
And Freddie thought she knew who. She was leafing fast through the pages now. There were countless mentions of ‘chosen warrior’. ‘He’s telling them what to do. Look. Here he says he’s chosen this dude for a special task. A few posts down and the dude posts instructions for how to inject heroin!’
Green grabbed her shoulder. ‘That’s how Chloe killed herself.’
He was orchestrating the whole thing from this website. ‘He got this guy to send Chloe instructions on how to kill herself!’ Freddie slapped the paper.
‘Wait a minute,’ Chips said. ‘Slow down. Who are you talking about?’
‘Apollyon’s Revenge,’ Freddie said, her words echoing in the room as Nas said the same name on the television.
‘You don’t know who he is though?’ She was teasing, flirty. ‘That must be an awfully big secret.’
‘I know who he is,’ Liam said confidently.
Nas exhaled. ‘Have you met him?’ They were all leaning in towards the screen now. Come on. Come on.
‘He’s not the type to do personal appearances,’ Liam smiled.
‘But you’ve spoken to him?’ Her voice light and fluffy as candy floss.
‘He only communicates online. He comes to you.’ He paused. ‘But I know his name.’ Liam was loving his moment in the Nas sunlight.
‘You don’t!’ Nas reached out and lightly touched his hand. Bet he won’t wash that for a week.
‘Alex Black,’ Liam said.
Got ya.
Nas pulled her hand back like he was dog shit. Straightened. Started doing up her blouse. All trace of sugar gone from her voice. ‘If you have a contact for Alex Black – a number, or an email – we’ll find it on your computer or phone. The Child Exploitation and Online Centre are very excited to meet you.’
‘Wait, what?’ He looked bewildered.
‘Do you know what they do to paedophiles in prison, Liam?’ Saunders said.
‘I’m not a kiddie fiddler!’ Liam looked from Saunders to Nas frantically. Trying to work out what had happened.
Nasreen leant across so she was close to him again. This time she was in his face, her voice cold, hard, and clear. ‘Chloe Strofton was a fifteen-year-old girl. A minor. You stalked her. You stole personal photos from her. Photos you had no right to have. And then you published those photos online. You shared her home contact details and encouraged others to threaten and abuse her. You sent her a scripted suicide note. You may not have pressed the plunger on the heroin syringe that killed her, but you as good as did. I will see that you go down for every last bit of it, you pathetic little boy.’ Nas pulled the photos from under him, slammed the folder shut and stood up. Yes!
‘Interview terminated. Nineteen forty-nine.’ Saunders flicked the machine. And they stalked out.