“Denver’s letters to Sarah,” Sam whispers, barely breathing. “You kept them.”
“I’ve never read them,” Sister Mary Louise rushes to clarify. “They weren’t mine to read. I just wanted to keep them safe.”
Sam blinks. “You’re saying you’ve never taken the letters out of the envelope?”
“Upon my soul, I have not,” the nun promises.
Taylor beams. “That means…”
“The only fingerprints on these will be Sarah’s and B.B.’s.” Sam grins. “Taylor, pull up Betty’s file and find the nephew’s name—I think Duggan said it but my memory…” They wait as Taylor quickly navigates the multiple digital documents stored in HOLMES.
“Next of kin,” he reads. “Barry Brown.”
“B.B.,” says the nun.
“We need to find him,” Sam says. “Right now. Today. I am certain he is the man who wroteHow to Get Away with Murder. When this comes back from forensics, we should finally have the evidence we need to prove he’s Denver Brady.”
Sam can tasteDenver Fever in the London air. The city has gone mad with it.How to Get Away with Murderhas gone viral and, according to Chloe Spears, original copies are selling on eBay forover a thousand pounds a pop. Sam does her best to block out the rhythmic chants of the protestors and the clipped voices of the reporters as she returns from a quick lunch. There’s only one name on their lips, and it’s not Charlotte’s. She does her best to take in the faces of the crowd, knowing that he could be there. Watching the show. Revelling in the fear and chaos. Looking for his next victim.
“NO, NOT ALL MEN! YES, ALL WOMEN!” cries a voice through a megaphone.
Sam is grateful for the vacuum of the elevator and ascends to the fourth floor with her eyes closed and her breathing even. Several floors below, Andrei Albescu is inside interview room two, liaising with his lawyer. DCI Blakelaw has the entire team working to prepare files for the Crown Prosecution Service, and the fourth floor is so loud that Sam inserts her earphones and double-taps until Bob Dylan’s voice is all she can hear. Through the glass, Sam sees Harry on the phone, no doubt speaking to the Commissioner, who is insisting on twice-daily updates. It’s not Charlotte they’re talking about, Sam guesses, but Denver.
Sam suspects that, given the volume of publicityHow to Get Away with Murderhas received, the ten grand that ties Andrei to the book’s sales is far from the total revenue by now, and she believes that somehow, Barry Brown is getting his hands on the rest. A second examination of Andrei’s bank statement has also revealed that several months ago he withdrew a large sum of cash, matching the amount Swinton’s charged to print the book. For now, Andrei has been charged with arson, buying more time to investigate his connection to the murders described inHow to Get Away with Murder. Because currently, there’s nothing actually connecting him to them. Not a single piece of evidence. And several of the murders didn’t even happen: Amy is still alive, as is Sean; Jono’s drowning was an accident; Sarah died by suicide; and if Basil even exists, he survived. Betty and Melanie were the onlyvictims of murder. No matter how hard Harry rages, the CPS will never support charging Andrei with their murders unless they find physical evidence or he makes a plausible confession. So, why would Andrei confess to killing Betty and Melanie when there’s so little evidence against him? Any good lawyer would advise Andrei to give a “no comment” interview. Something teeters on the outskirts of Sam’s memory, but she can’t grasp it.
Sam sits heavily in her chair, and for a few moments more she does nothing but think. She can smell Taylor’s aftershave, but pushes away the memory of his visit to her home yesterday. The feel of his fingertips on her cheek. She fiddles with the little netball keyring. She’d agreed to work on the book investigation and leave Charlotte’s murder with Tina, but she can’t stop herself thinking about who might have placed that tracker in Charlotte’s bag. Her phone rings through her headphones, cutting off her music and making her jump. She double taps to answer.
“It’s Duggan.” The Geordie officer sounds like he’s in a wind tunnel and Sam presses her earpod harder into her ear. “I’ve got the school records you asked for. They haven’t been digitalized so I had to drive there in person. What a fanny-on I’ve had. Anyhow, we have Barry Brown and Robert Brown both listed as former pupils there. Wolsington College. Bobby went on to Northumbria University, then we have a death certificate. Died by—”
“Drowning, I know. Tell me about Barry.”
“Betty’s nephew, grew up in Easington Colliery, did a degree at Northumbria University but I have nothing on him after graduation, until he inherited everything from Betty’s estate and no one knows where he went after that.”
Sam frowns. “I thought Betty changed her will?”
“She told her neighbor she’d done that, but apparently the copy of Betty’s will leaving everything to the Salvation Army was never lodged with her solicitor, and never found.”
“So Barry got her money, then disappeared?”
“Yes. At least, there’s no criminal record. I’ve submitted a request to the banks and register office, but right now it looks like he just vanished. He likely changed his name. That’s far more effective than we like to admit,” Duggan says ruefully. “But I heard on the grapevine that you’ve got Denver Brady behind bars and he’s Romanian?”
“It’s early days,” Sam says, before asking Duggan to keep searching for Barry and ringing off.
Sam is tempted to spend time tracking down Barry herself, to stop Harry telling the world that Denver Brady is a man named Andrei Albescu when she knows full well he’s not. But finding Betty’s killer and the author ofHow to Get Away with Murderisn’t her top priority, despite her agreement with Tina and Harry’s orders. With Duggan and Taylor pursuing the Barry Brown lead, she decides to treat herself to a few minutes’ consideration of the case she’s burning to solve. She makes a cup of tea, holes up in the small meeting room and goes over Charlotte’s crime scene photographs again. Her heart races uncomfortably, and she has to sip her tea every minute or so to flush away the salty taste, but she makes her way through each image carefully. She takes notes, then closes her eyes and lets the facts of Charlotte’s case, and only that case, flow through her.
Something needles her about Charlotte’s behavior the night she was killed. Sam turns the sequence of events over in her mind. She feels so close to grasping something, when Harry calls everyone into the briefing room. He smiles and nods as people file in, patting one or two amicably on the shoulder. Despite the team’s exhaustion, it’s clear Harry is in a good mood. Chirpy, even. He no doubt expects that he’ll soon be able to tell the press that he’s bagged a serial killer. In the meantime, he’s gathered them to say he wants them all focused on Charlotte Mathers.
“I’m sorry to do this, folks, but we need one last push to get this over the line. I’ve no choice but to ask for overtime this weekend,please.” Harry keeps his tone light and talks through the stony silence, describing how they are all playing a vital role in securing justice for a child. He ends by literally applauding the officers as they begin to leave the room and she notices that he’s humming under his breath.
“Detective Inspector Hansen,” Tina Edris says to Sam as they walk out, “you need to stand up for yourself. You’re supposed to be on a phased return. The DCI has already made you joint SIO. You can’t work weekends, too. I say this as an ally, not a rival; nor a friend.”
“Tina—” Sam begins, but the other woman just holds up her hand and walks away, giant bucket bag banging against her hip.
Sam rests her forehead on her arms and leans on her desk. She hates to admit it, but Tina has a point. Just like Dr. Thomson has told her, it’s too much. Sam yawns deeply and sits up, her eyes landing on Charlotte’s photograph on the whiteboard.Fourteen years old, Sam thinks.Dead. Strangled. Posed like a doll, on a tree trunk. For a man’s pleasure. And I’m sitting here, yawning.Sam chides herself. She rises to her feet.This isn’t about Denver Brady, she thinks. This isn’t aboutHow to Get Away with Murder. It isn’t about the Romanian in a cell downstairs. It’s not even about the brutal murder of a nice old lady from the North East. This is about a girl. A child. That beautiful child with the green eyes. She’s all that really matters.Screw the rest, Sam thinks.
“Ma’am,” Taylor says, coming over from his desk as he sees her get up. He speaks in a low voice. “I was thinking, it’s going to be another late one. I’m going to grab some food and I thought—”
“No, thanks, Taylor,” Sam says, and gathers up her things. She’s already decided where she’s going and it’s not out for dinner with her trainee.
