They gathered round the TV screen. Khan smiled, looked round. Opened his mouth to say something.
‘First one who shouts “Showtime!” is demoted to traffic duty,’ said Phil without looking up.
Khan’s mouth immediately closed. There was laughter at his expense. He clearly didn’t like it. Phil smiled inwardly at that, then chastised himself for being so petty. Khan was young. He would learn. Hopefully.
The DVD started playing. It showed Glenn McGowan, dressed as Amanda, sitting on the sofa in his living room.
Sperring pointed at the screen. ‘That’s…’
Khan nodded, triumph in his eyes. Pleased he had something to show off about. ‘DC Oliver and me watched this yesterday. We thought we were on to something. And we are, just…’ he shrugged, ‘dunno what yet.’
As they watched, there was a ring at the door. Amanda got up to answer it. A heavily disguised man entered and the two of them began to have sex.
‘Has he come to read the meter?’ said Sperring. ‘Jesus. Looks like an old porn film.’
More laughter.
‘That’s what we thought,’ said DC Oliver. ‘We also thought we were watching Glenn McGowan’s last night on earth,’ she added. ‘But sadly we weren’t that lucky. Sadly for us, that is.’
‘You mean he’s still alive at the end of it?’ asked Sperring.
‘Yeah,’ said Oliver. ‘That’s what gave it away.’
They kept watching. The sex took a diversion into pain, Amanda the recipient.
‘Watch here,’ said Khan. ‘The guy gets so into it that it looks like his wig’s about to come off.’ He froze the screen and pointed. They all peered in, trying to make out the colour and style of his real hair underneath.
‘Dark hair,’ said Phil. ‘Same as the wig.’
‘Gets better,’ said Khan. ‘You don’t mind?’ He fast-forwarded the action to another spot. ‘Here.’
The disguised man had stripped off fully now. His body looked young, hard. The camera went between the two protagonists, trying to get as much action and reaction in frame as possible.
‘There. Just… there. That.’
Khan froze the screen once more. There was a near close-up of the man’s right arm. On the inside of his forearm was a tattoo.
‘Looks like a twisted staircase,’ said Cotter. ‘Or the bars of a cage.’
‘It’s a double helix,’ said Phil. ‘Isn’t it? Human DNA structure.’
The rest of the team looked at him. DC Oliver nodded, glancing at Khan. ‘That’s what I thought, boss. I made a sketch of it and checked it out. It is.’
‘Good work,’ said Phil.
Khan didn’t look so happy.
‘So he did it already in his living room,’ said Sperring. ‘What’s this, then, d’you think, a dry run?’
‘Doesn’t look that dry,’ said Khan, the picture still frozen, his back to the screen, addressing the group. ‘Not when you see some of the stuff later.’
‘Right,’ said Phil. ‘So this must have been after McGowan moved in. And after he decorated, by the looks of it. I don’t suppose there’s a date on the film anywhere?’
Elli shook her head. ‘Sorry, boss.’
‘Not to worry,’ said Phil. ‘We’ll find another way in. If McGowan only moved into the house a couple of weeks ago, and he’s been dead, I don’t know, one week, five days, let’s say for argument’s sake, then he must have worked bloody quickly to get this place decorated and the camera up and running.’
‘Something else,’ said Imani Oliver. ‘McGowan’s in a pretty brutalised state by the end of this film. He’s got wounds that must have taken some time to heal. Did the post-mortem mention them?’
‘No,’ said Sperring. ‘Scars, yes. And fairly recent. But healed. Not wounds. Not the kind that would be still be around from such a short time ago.’
‘Gets better,’ said Phil. He looked at Khan. ‘Do we need to watch this through to the end?’
‘Only if you want to, sir,’ said Khan, an insolent smile on his face.
‘I meant is there anything else we can pick up from it?’
‘Just one thing,’ said Oliver. ‘McGowan refers to the other man as Ben. We don’t know if that’s his real name or all part of the scenario, a role he’s playing, but when he – she, sorry, says it, he stops and looks up. Like he’s not happy.’
‘So that would lead us to believe it’s his real name,’ said Phil. ‘That also fits with something Julie McGowan told us. That her husband had been – as Amanda – seeing a man called Ben. Right.’
Show over, mercifully for most of them, they turned away from the screen. Returned to the usual briefing.
‘OK,’ said Phil. ‘So where does this leave us? Well, we’ve got a name. Ben. We’ve got a tattoo of a double helix. I would imagine that would be quite distinctive. We need someone to check the local tattoo parlours. See if it was done in the city. See if anyone answers his description. Tall, dark-haired young man.’
‘That should narrow it down a bit,’ said Sperring.
Phil stared at him, but realised that the older man, for once, wasn’t being facetious. Just showing his desperation.
‘And the big one,’ said Phil. ‘He hasn’t been in that house for long. How did he manage to film this in there and then for his wounds to heal before he did it all again, but fatally?’