‘Campbell? You’re sure?’
‘Yes. Why? I thought you were going to spit your coffee all over me then.’
‘You need to speak to DCI Bardsley immediately,’ said Lambert. He explained about Campbell. How his source, Myles Stoddard, had linked a man named Campbell to the murders of Samuel Burnham and Kwasi Olumide.
‘So Bardsley has an arrest warrant out on this guy?’
‘Not quite. We only have the surname at the moment.’
‘It could be a coincidence.’
‘Could be. One hell of a coincidence if it is. Klatzky has been sent two sets of crime scene photos. One of a Souljacker victim, one of a second victim, this one with his eyes sealed shut. Two different forms of murder, both involving the eyes. Nolan and Haydon both attended counselling sessions. One was counselled by someone called Campbell. I think we can start considering the possibility they are linked, one way or another.’
‘Why the different MO?’
‘I think it’s the victims he distinguishes. I don’t fully understand why yet.’
‘Right I’m going to call Bardsley now,’ she said. ‘I’ll tell him, and Nielson, that you volunteered the information on Klatzky.’
‘It’s a bit late but you won’t really be lying.’
She gripped his arm. ‘You have to leave well alone now.’
‘I’ll tell you when Klatzky turns up,’ said Lambert.
May loitered by the front door, as if she was waiting for something else from him. ‘Perhaps we can talk further once this has all finished?’
‘Okay, I’d like that,’ he said, understanding how inadequate his words sounded. He sensed a distance between them, and feared it would only get bigger. As he opened the door to let her out, he saw Klatzky staggering down the street towards the house. The man meandered across the pavement, once walking into a parked car. He didn’t look up until May walked onto the street.
Klatzky stopped. He swayed from side to side, at once pitiful and comical, his mouth wide open.
Lambert stepped out onto the street and waved to Klatzky who lifted his arm in acknowledgment. ‘Simon,’ he shouted. He beckoned him over trying to keep his body language neutral. May kept close, keen not to startle the man.
Klatzky continued staring at them blankly. He’d been drunk at the bar. He’d probably doubled his intake since then. Lambert could only imagine the unhinged thoughts going through his head. Klatzky inched forward like an errant puppy returning to its master.
He was five yards away when May made a move for him. Smiling as she grabbed his arm, she twisted it behind his back, cuffed him, and began reading him his rights.
Klatzky could barely talk. ‘What’s going on?’ he mouthed to Lambert, his words horrendously slurred as if he had a speech impediment.
‘I’ll get you a solicitor,’ said Lambert.
‘There’s some things you haven’t been telling us, Mr Klatzky,’ said May, calling for assistance.