‘Ben Trezeguet is in the wind somewhere,’ said Henley, taking the control from Pellacia’s hand. She rewound the footage, pausing at the drone footage of herself and Ramouter standing outside Nathan Lane’s home with uniformed officers as a black private ambulance pulled into the driveway. ‘Officers from Stoke Newington police went to Ben’s address in Dalston an hour after Anthony gave me the update. There was no one there.’
‘Does he work? I can’t imagine that he’s making a living from this YouTube thing?’ said Pellacia.
‘You’d be surprised,’ said Stanford, dragging his chair towards Henley. ‘The money rolls in once you get yourself monetised. That’s what my niece Casey tells me.’
‘I’m not thinking he’s someone that needs to be on the suspect board,’ said Pellacia.
‘I didn’t think that he’s a suspect either,’ Henley agreed. ‘But Ramouter made some valid points. We can’t just write him off. There’s an argument for joint enterprise. His prints were in Nathan Hall’s house, and he clearly has access to sensitive information.’
‘He’s got to be using a police scanner,’ said Ramouter. ‘It would explain why he was at the Fox-Carnell crime scene.’
‘But it wouldn’t explain how and why he ended up at Nathan Hall’s house,’ said Henley. ‘What worries me is what he’s going to release next. He thinks he’s a detective and I don’t trust him not to show Nathan Hall’s dead body.’
‘We need to get him arrested and charged with – if not murder – interfering with the course of justice and get him before a judge as soon as possible,’ said Ramouter. ‘He’s a danger to this case and to himself.’
‘What do we actually know about this Trezeguet geezer?’ asked Stanford. ‘I doubt he volunteered to put his DNA on the database.’
‘He’s twenty-six years old and he has previous for criminal damage, trespass and domestic burglary,’ Copeland said, standing as she turned over the pages of Ben Trezeguet’s PNC in her hands. ‘Actually, two burglary convictions. He got a twelve-month community order for the first one and a suspended sentence for the second one.’ Copeland sucked air through her teeth. ‘Three strikes. He’s looking at a minimum of three years in prison if he gets convicted of another domestic dwelling. Something he needs to be aware of if we ever get cuffs on him.’
‘I don’t believe this YouTube detective wannabe has just disappeared.’ Pellacia checked his watch. ‘He’s invested in this case and not just as an observer, if Ramouter is right. He’s been present at two crime scenes and he tried to get into the press conference. He either knows nothing or saw something and I can’t see him not coming back to talk about it.’
‘I’m always one for following your gut instinct,’ Copeland said, looking pointedly at Henley. ‘But we’ve got no evidence that he’s not involved in these murders somehow.’
Henley folded her arms and cocked her head to the side.
‘Where are we with Durant?’ Pellacia asked quickly, manoeuvring his body slightly in front of Copeland. Shielding her.
‘I’m going to release him under investigation at some point this afternoon, but I want to let him sweat in a cell for a bit. Give him a taste of the future if he doesn’t start co-operating,’ Henley said, her voice steady but filled with disdain. ‘But I want to have eyes on him when he does get out. We need surveillance.’
‘I’ve already told you, repeatedly, that we don’t have the budget.’ Pellacia was exasperated as he put on his coat.
‘If you’re off to see the bosses, talk to them. Tell them to find the money,’ said Henley.
‘Tell them?’ Pellacia replied, his eyes sparkling with humour as the intercom buzzed.
‘Remind them that we’ve got at least two crazy people running around South London scalping people.’
‘Vigilantes,’ Stanford offered as Joanna walked over.
‘Mark is on his way up,’ said Joanna as Stanford rolled his eyes.
‘Thank god. Right, I’m off to beg for money,’ said Pellacia. ‘Keep me updated.’
‘Before we move on, I spoke to the SIO of the Nathan Hall rape investigation earlier this morning,’ said Copeland, facing Henley, the glare of defiance visible in her eyes. Copeland spoke quickly and forcefully, not giving Henley the opportunity to find a break in her speech and stop her. ‘I know that we’re focusing on the vigilante angle, but I think we can’t ignore the fact that Nathan Hall was attacked by one of the complainants, Tyler Simmons, when he was leaving court after the verdict.’
‘Physically or verbally?’ Henley asked with cold steel in her voice as Dr Mark Ryan entered. He held up his bottle of water in greeting and took a seat.
‘Physically,’ Copeland replied. She took a step and turned her back on Henley to face the team. ‘According to DI Knowles, Simmons rushed and punched Hall when he was leaving court and was restrained by security and arrested. Simmons was charged with common assault and was held overnight in custody. He appeared at Westminster Magistrates’ Court yesterday morning and pleaded not guilty.’
‘Eastwood,’ Henley said loudly. ‘I want you to see Simmons. Take the details from Copeland and you can also check with Anthony and ask him to run the DNA samples retrieved from Hall through the database. Simmons’ samples may not have been uploaded when Anthony first did his checks.’
Copeland’s neck flushed red as Eastwood tucked her pen behind her ear and raised her eyebrows at Stanford.
‘Henley, I don’t think that’s fair,’ said Copeland, a quiver in her voice. ‘I did the—’
‘You know how the rank system works, so make sure you address me accordingly and, secondly, I shouldn’t have to explain to you what it means to be part of a team,’ snapped Henley.
‘No, of course not, guv, but—’
