TWENTY-THREE

12.15 P.M.

Kim placed a selection of pastries and drinks on the edge of Penn’s desk. ‘Not for you, Frost,’ she said, nodding towards her office, the glass-fronted room her team called the Bowl. ‘I need a word.’

The reporter looked to the others as though waiting for someone to save her before she moved.

‘You do know I’m not a member of your team?’ she huffed as she headed for the Bowl.

‘And you know that’s never stopped me bollocking you in the past,’ Kim retorted, closing the door behind her.

Frost stood in the middle of the room with her arms folded. ‘What?’

Kim took a seat behind her desk. ‘So, what’s the deal with you and Ryan Douglas?’ she asked.

‘I told you. He’s just an ex-boyfriend.’

Kim paused. The man had been a few years older; intelligent, good-looking and ambitious. What had gone wrong?

‘So why did you leave him?’ Kim probed.

‘Who says I did?’ Frost challenged her, and Kim wondered if during their entire history, they’d ever had a conversation that wasn’t combative.

‘He did,’ Kim answered.

Frost coloured and shrugged.

‘What did he do?’

‘Am I under arrest?’

‘If being annoying was a crime, yes, but no, you’re not.’

Frost turned to leave.

‘Did he get physical?’ Kim asked. It was the suspicion that had been on her mind all morning.

Frost didn’t turn, and she didn’t answer.

‘How physical?’ she pushed.

‘Not answering, Stone.’

‘Okay, it’s your business, but this is my investigation. We’re being played by a man who is both controlling and violent, so based on your experience, should I discount Ryan Douglas or keep him on ice?’

Frost considered long and hard before turning. ‘Keep him on ice.’

Kim nodded towards the door, indicating she was free to leave. ‘And you can take a pastry now.’

Kim took a moment to reflect on everything Frost had just told her by not telling her a damn thing.

Clearly Ryan Douglas had been in a position of power in their relationship, and he’d used it to get physical. Exactly what he’d done she guessed she would never know, but she couldn’t help wondering what would happen if the two of them were to meet now. Frost wasn’t a woman she could imagine being intimidated by anyone.

She took a breath and headed back into the squad room.

‘Any progress?’ she asked, nodding towards Penn’s empty chair.

‘Just called in a possible missing guy,’ Stacey said. ‘He’s asking around for more details.’

It was a shot in the dark, but they had to give it a try. If anyone could find out, it would be Penn.

Kim turned back to Frost. ‘You still got a job?’

‘Barely, but only cos my boss can’t be arsed to start the disciplinary procedure on a Sunday.’

‘What about the next article?’ Kim asked. Their guy would expect another update to be posted in just under six hours’ time.

Frost shrugged. ‘I’ll worry about that when I get to it.’

Right now, Frost’s ongoing employment was not her greatest concern.

She turned to her team. ‘Okay, refresh. Mitch has the nails and is taking a look before resuming his weekend.’

‘Ha, his missus won’t like that,’ Stacey offered.

Kim waited.

‘Saw them once at the Dudley Arms carvery. As soon as he introduced me as a work colleague, her face changed. Not sure he’s even allowed to think about work on a Sunday. She likes to stay at the pub after eating if you know what I mean,’ Stacey said, bringing her hand to her mouth in a drinking motion.

‘Okay, thanks for that, Stace,’ Kim said.

‘Sorry, just in case you were wondering why he’s not quite as helpful as normal.’

‘Splendid. Right, that missing label at the Saltwells makes me think our guy was at the nature reserve to watch. No one would have questioned seeing a random volunteer as long as he had one of those stickers. I think our man infiltrated the litter-pick.’

Stacey cast a glance at Bryant and they both burst out laughing. Even Frost chuckled.

‘Sorry, boss,’ Stacey said, ‘but it’s not two words I’d normally put together.’

Kim rolled her eyes. ‘I think he’s doing this for entertainment, for kicks. He’s playing with us, but that makes him no less dangerous. We know from the Dictaphone that he’s not afraid to cause pain, and if he was there this morning, he’s not afraid to take risks.’

‘You’re assuming it’s a man?’ Frost asked.

‘We never assume, but it’s the natural pronoun for us to use. And you’re still not allowed to speak.’

‘He could also have been there to make sure we were taking him seriously,’ Bryant offered as Frost returned to her computer.

‘True,’ Kim said before turning to Stace. ‘Any luck on the next clue?’

‘Still working on it. I mean, what the hell does “cubed chieftain slithers around Bonzo” mean?’

‘Okay, keep at it. Any names that jump out from the Seekers website?’ Kim asked, taking a bite from one of the pastries.

‘I’m not done on the site yet, and there are plenty other sites to check, but if we’re assuming whoever’s doing this is an experienced geocacher, I’ve got a couple of interesting names. First one is Eric Lane, forty-eight years of age, married, two kids and a job as a sales demonstrator of kitchen appliances.’

For some reason, that image went hand in hand with the hobby they were looking at.

‘Go on,’ Kim urged, finishing her pastry.

‘He’s a purist. Absolutely passionate about sticking to the rules of the game. Very vocal in the chat rooms about doing it all correctly, even jumps on the others for bad grammar.’

‘Fun guy,’ Kim observed.

‘The other one is Jared Truss. He’s a twenty-five-year-old YouTuber with a few thousand followers who films himself finding and exploring caches. He does it mainly in the dark and combines it with spooky ghost stories. He sneaks into abandoned buildings and likes to scare his audience.’

‘Sounds marginally more fun. Why the interest in these two?’

‘Cos they’re the top guys. Every trail that gets set is marked by the people that complete it. The scores for these two are the highest. They’re constantly jostling for the top spot and always trying to outdo each other with more elaborate and intricate puzzles.’

‘What lengths would they go to, to be the best?’ Kim wondered. Surely murder was too high a price to pay just to be the top of the leader board.

‘They hate each other passionately,’ Stacey added.

‘How passionately?’ Kim asked.

‘Started out with jabs at each other in the chat rooms. Eric started it as Jared’s style of play became more popular. To get him back, Jared solved Eric’s next trail in record time and posted all the locations and clues online within a couple of hours. Obviously ruined that puzzle. Eric held the record for the longest multi-box trail with twelve linked boxes. A week later, Jared posted a trail with thirteen boxes. Boxes on each of their trails have gone missing, breaking the chain of clues so the puzzle is worthless. No prizes for guessing who the likely saboteurs are.’

‘All very innocent stuff,’ Kim observed.

‘Yes and no,’ Stacey said, tipping her head.

Kim waited.

‘Neither of them is showing any signs of backing down. The animosity is growing, and they both seem to be getting nastier in their efforts to win.’

Kim considered Stacey’s point. Could they be dealing with a case of one-upmanship? Was one of them trying to irrevocably outdo the other one?

‘You got addresses?’

Stacey offered a wide smile. ‘Oh yeah.’

‘Text ’em to Bryant,’ Kim said, pushing herself off the edge of the desk.

Her phone rang as she reached for her jacket.

‘What ya got, Mitch?’ she asked as a greeting.

‘Not much, except to say that this guy has been brutally denailed.’

‘Pain level?’ Kim asked.

‘It hasn’t been a method of torture for centuries for no reason. I could tell you all about the nail bed and the epithelial tissue and the sterile matrix… but ultimately hostages and prisoners who have endured it have described the pain as unimaginable, so I think that gives us a good idea of what this poor soul went through.’

‘What are the chances of these nails coming from a homeless person?’ Kim wanted to be sure Penn wasn’t chasing his tail for nothing.

‘Very possible. The dirt isn’t from someone who has spent a couple of hours in the garden. This is ingrained and down deep in the nail bed. And that’s pretty much all I can tell you.’

‘Hang on, how about blood type, DNA profile, all that helpful stuff?’

‘You have no body, no crime scene, it’s Sunday afternoon. If you need any further help, be sure to call someone else.’

Kim growled at an empty line. Of course he wanted his day off. She could understand it.

Unfortunately for Mitch, that made no difference to her at all.