Pellacia paused the television. ‘The woman who was murdered has been identified as Catlin Ferguson,’ he said.
‘Oh, for fuck’s sake,’ said Stanford, throwing his jacket onto the desk. ‘When did this happen?’
‘Saturday night but she died in the early hours of yesterday morning.’
‘Why are we only hearing about this now?’
‘Because she wasn’t formally identified until last night. Acid burns made her unrecognisable and, for reasons unknown to me, her husband didn’t report her missing until yesterday morning,’ Pellacia explained.
‘This doesn’t make any sense,’ said Henley. ‘If the vigilantes are responsible for this, why would they kill her before there’s even been a verdict? When Ramouter checked on Friday, the jury had only just retired.’
‘That’s right,’ said Ramouter. ‘According to the list office, they’d gone out just after 11 a.m. and then the judge sent them home early at 3.30 p.m.. Killing someone before a verdict goes completely against their MO.’
‘They’re escalating,’ said Pellacia. ‘They’re not even waiting for a court to reach a verdict that they don’t like.’
‘Was she scalped?’ asked Eastwood.
‘No. Her attackers would have ended up in hospital if they’d touched her,’ said Pellacia. ‘But this entire attack was different. It was in public for starters,’ said Pellacia as he walked over to Henley and handed her a single sheet of paper. ‘OIC details for the Ferguson case.’
‘If our vigilantes are responsible,’ said Ramouter as he remained standing. ‘It means that they’re even more dangerous now.’
‘How so?’ Copeland asked.
‘They’re becoming unpredictable,’ Henley answered. ‘We had a narrow area in which to cast our net when our hypothesis was that they were targeting defendants who they believed had taken advantage of the system and had been wrongly acquitted. But with Ferguson, they’re not even waiting for the court process to conclude. Iron Shadow are now the jury.’
‘That means that the Joneses, Bartholomew Gardner, and Welch are all in immediate danger,’ said Copeland.
‘Where are we with Kaiden Longley?’ asked Pellacia.
‘Anthony should get forensic results to us by the end of the day, but the post-mortem was completed yesterday,’ answered Henley. ‘A broken neck as a result of the fall is the cause of death. No eyewitnesses either to the fall or to anyone entering his flat. We’ve recovered personal items but not his phone which shouldn’t betoo much of a problem because the cell site report from the phone company landed in my inbox half an hour ago.’
‘Keep me updated,’ said Pellacia. ‘I’m going to see the borough commander and see what we can do about the defendants who are at risk but first I’m going downstairs to speak to Ezra. He’s feeling bad about Longley.’
‘He’s got absolutely no reason to feel guilty,’ said Stanford. ‘Longley made his choices and, unfortunately, he’s paid for them.’
‘Right, this is what we’re going to do,’ Henley continued. ‘Copeland, I want you to go to Wood Green Crown Court and speak to the prosecutor for the Ferguson trial.’
‘This is crazy,’ Copeland said as she picked up her covert harness and police radio from her desk.
‘Stanford and Eastwood, I need you to go through all of the property that was recovered from Longley’s flat and also the Crimestoppers call logs. Most of the people calling up since we released the composites have been cranks but there has to be something there. And I’ll speak to the OIC dealing with the Ferguson acid attack,’ said Henley. ‘We need to find these people before anyone else ends up dead.’
51
Copeland grimaced as she left the security desk of Wood Green Crown Court and took the stairs to Court six. There was an atmosphere in the air that was unique to court buildings. A palpable sense of anticipation mixed with the unmistakable scent of denial that permeated from the pores of defendants who had yet to understand the gravity of their situation. Copeland found a barrister sitting outside Courtroom Four with a bemused look on his face. Copeland took out her phone and double checked the screenshot that she’d taken off the barristers’ directory 9 Kemble Hill Chambers.
‘Barnaby Spada?’ Copeland asked the barrister.
‘Who’s asking?’
‘DC Copeland. I’m attached to the Met’s Serial Crime Unit,’ she said, flashing her warrant card. ‘I understand that you’re prosecuting Catlin Ferguson.’
‘Are you here to tell me that you found her? The judge issued a bench warrant about an hour ago.’
‘Found her … no,’ said Copeland. ‘Is there somewhere private we can talk?’
‘Private? What exactly is going on?’
Copeland stepped forward, lowering her voice. ‘Catlin Ferguson is dead.’
