Read The Rule Book Online

Authors: Rob Kitchin

The Rule Book (37 page)

‘Nothing so far. We’re still working through CCTV footage from every camera within quarter of a mile. We’ve got people out showing the photofit and we’re working through all the staff and customer’s statements. He disappeared the moment he stepped out of the bar door.’

‘Anything from forensics?’ he asked Hannah Fallon.

‘We’re at the back of the queue with Cheryl. There were hundreds of hair and fluid samples in that place; probably from hundreds of different people. It’s going to take us an age to process them all. And I hope someone’s got deep pockets because it’s going to cost a fortune as well.’

‘Don’t worry about the cost; that’s Bishop’s and the Minister’s concern. Charlie, how about you?’

‘We’re making slow …’

McEvoy’s phone rang. He held up his hand to stop Deegan. ‘McEvoy?’

‘Colm, you’d better come back up again,’ the AC said. ‘We need to talk.’

‘I’ll be there now.’ The line went dead. ‘Right, okay,’ he said to the room, ‘I’ll be back shortly. Get a coffee or something.’

 

 

The AC was standing at the window looking out across the city. Bishop was sitting in the same seat as before, a scowl on his face. The clock on the wall said it was a ten past seven. The murder that morning seemed a lifetime ago. McEvoy hovered, unsure whether to sit or not.

‘Take a seat, Colm,’ the AC instructed, turning and sitting behind his desk. ‘The last hour has, let’s say, been interesting. I’ve spent most of it on the phone, first with the Commissioner, then with the Minister, then with his Secretary General, then back to the Minister, and finally the Commissioner again. Basically Justice has shoved the ball back into our court and have gone to talk to the Attorney General for advice.

‘They think we’re screwed either way and don’t want any part of it. They think we should do whatever we think’s best. Unless the Attorney General says otherwise, the decision about how to proceed then is up to us. They don’t think a security alert, however, is a good idea. There’s enough panic around as it is without people thinking they’ve got to worry about bombs as well. They’ve no objections to closing the street to traffic, however.’

The AC paused, gathering his thoughts.

‘As you know, I’ve also spoken to Kathy Jacobs. Based on her experience and her reading of the case notes, she’s strongly of the opinion that whether we close
O’Connell Street
or not, he’s going to kill the seventh victim tomorrow. On that basis, it seems to make sense to keep O’Connell Street open and to catch the bastard.’

McEvoy let a deep breath out unaware that he’d been holding it.

‘There’s still the danger that he might kill someone before we can stop him, but at least he’d be caught. And while the press might crucify us if that happens, they’d vilify us if he killed elsewhere and they then found out we’d the perfect opportunity to catch him and passed it up. What that means is we need to make sure we do catch him. I know you’re not happy about this, Tony, but I really don’t think we’ve got a choice.’

Bishop nodded and lowered his eyes to the desk.


We’ve got less than five hours until tomorrow starts, so the clock has started ticking. I’ll leave the operational planning to you two,’ the AC said, thereby devolving himself of responsibility, ‘but my feeling is that you keep the team small. No more than 30 men – maybe two teams of 15. It’s imperative that whoever’s involved keeps everything to themselves, okay? Nobody’s to tell their families to stay away from O’Connell Street. The news will travel like wildfire and God knows what that’ll start. I know they won’t want to put loved ones at risk, but under no circumstances are they to mention the operation. Is that clear?’

McEvoy and Bishop nodded their heads.

‘If you want an armed response unit or anything else, just let me know. My suggestion is you hand pick your teams, starting with your DIs and DSs. People with experience. People you can rely on. Right, well,’ he said, drawing things to a close, ‘I guess, you’d better go and make a start. If I hear anything from the Minister or Attorney General I’ll let you know.’

‘Do you want us to run the final plan past you?’ Bishop asked, already knowing the answer.

‘Only if it’s going to involve anything unusual. I assume you’re going to close off the street to traffic and stake the place out. What more can you do?’

 

 

‘Right, well, you heard the man,’ Bishop said, ‘go and sort out a plan and pick and organise your teams. Whatever resources you need just ask and I’ll get them for you.’

‘I thought he said …’

‘Nevermind what he just said. My job’s to oversee things and protect your back. And that’s what I’m going to be doing. I’m going to give you the time and space to be getting on with things, and while you organise and run that stake out, I’m going to be working out contingency plans for the press. If he does manage to kill someone on O’Connell Street, or if O’Connell Street is a bluff and he kills elsewhere, then the media are going to go crazy. The whole world is watching us, Colm. This isn’t about spin, it’s about protecting ourselves from criticism and any fall-out. And that needs a careful strategy.’

‘So you just want me to get on with it then?’

‘Yes. And since you’ve only got four-and-a-half hours, I suggest you make a start.’

‘And do you want to see the final plan?’ McEvoy asked with a hint of facetiousness.

‘Do I need to? As the AC says, it’s just a large stakeout.’

McEvoy headed for the door, his shoulders slumped. Talk about being set up as the fall guy. If anything went wrong and they didn’t catch The Raven, he’d be hung out to dry. The AC and Bishop would squirm and squeal and they’d make sure that anybody except themselves were held responsible. But there was no one he could delegate responsibility to. The buck stopped with him. He jammed his plastic cigarette in his mouth and descended the stairs. Feck the cigarette, he felt like a stiff whisky.

 

 

Everyone’s head in the room swivelled to watch him enter, tracking him as he walked to the front, trying to read his mind.

He turned and faced them, his brow creased in worry lines. ‘Sorry about the delay, there’s been a change of plan. Can the crime scene people leave please, with the exception of Michael. We’ll finish the meeting at another time.’

His audience looked at each other and back at him. Reluctantly the crime scene managers started to gather themselves and their notes.

‘Come on, we’re on a clock here; if you could make your way out.’ He’d have liked to have requested that Deegan join them, but it would only cause hassle. Plus there would be plenty of people around to keep an eye on him.

Once those requested had left, McEvoy sat on the edge of a desk. ‘Before I start, I want to make it clear that everything I’m about to tell you is confidential. You will not divulge it to anyone including your families or anyone else. Understand? That instruction comes from the highest level.’

Kathy Jacobs, Barney Plunkett, Jenny Flanagan, Johnny Cronin, Charlie Deegan, Jim Whelan and Michael Foster shared glances and nodded their assent.

‘Good. There’s going to be enough to worry about without the rumour mill working its way around the city. The note out at Oughterard stated where the last murder’s going to happen. After a lot of fannying about we’ve decided to try and catch him at the scene. The danger is that he still manages to kill his last victim before we manage to capture him. That’s a risk we’re going to have to take. If we shut down the whole area, he’s just going to kill someone else, elsewhere. The main thing is to make sure we catch the sick bastard. Everyone follow so far?’

‘Where’s he planning to strike?’ Plunkett asked.

‘I’m getting to that. I’m just making sure you understand why you can’t tell your families. They might be planning to go to where he’s planning to commit the final murder. If you warn them off, then they’ll warn off their friends, and so on. We’ll have a place either totally deserted or full of vigilantes and press. And we can’t afford to let that happen. Is that clear?’

He paused, his eyes travelling across their faces, making them know how important the issue was.

‘The note says he intends to murder someone at the spire on O’Connell Street sometime tomorrow.’

‘Jesus Christ,’ Plunkett muttered.

‘That gives us a little over four hours to try and plan things and get ourselves in place. We’ve no idea when he might try and carry it out – could be the early hours, late tomorrow night or anytime in between. My suggestion is we head down there now and scope the place out; work out where to set up camera surveillance and how to try and patrol the area. We have permission to close the street to traffic, but not to pedestrians.

‘We also need to determine how many personnel we’re going to need and whether we want an armed response unit involved. All personnel involved will need to be experienced and to be vouched for by yourselves. At this stage, I’m not convinced by armed personnel, especially as it might be busy with shoppers. I think we have them waiting in reserve in case he takes people hostage. Any questions?’

‘Do we have any idea who the intended victim is?’ Cronin asked.

‘No. Some of the victims have been linked to Brady, others haven’t. He could just pick someone at random.’

‘How about how he intends to kill them?’ Flanagan asked.

‘Again, nothing. All the note says is the date and latitude and longitude of where he’ll strike. My gut feeling is that it’s going to be up close given how he’s killed so far.’

‘And he’ll want to try and get away,’ Jacobs added. ‘This is his final challenge – to kill where and when he’s expected to and to then get clean away. It’ll be carefully planned and likely to be very quick. Maybe a single stab of a knife to a heart and then hurry away before it’s clear what’s happening.’

‘Hopefully we can identify and apprehend him before anything like that happens,’ McEvoy continued. ‘If it does, Michael, I want you and your team nearby to seal off the crime scene and collect evidence before it’s destroyed. You’ll also need to organise a standby medical team. Anyone else?’ McEvoy asked.

The room stayed silent, each officer mulling over the task ahead.

‘Right, okay then, let’s get ourselves down to
O’Connell Street
. We’ll leave in dribs and drabs rather than a convoy. I don’t want the press following us down there. When you get there have a good scout around, familiarise yourself with the area, and try and put yourself in his shoes. How would you get in and out? And how should we go about organising the stakeout? We’ll meet back here by 9.30 at the latest. Barney, I want you to come with me and Dr Jacobs.’

 

 

Plunkett was driving, McEvoy in the passenger seat, Jacobs in the back.

‘We’re going to have to split this into teams to make it manageable,’ McEvoy said. ‘Each team can do a block of four hours on duty, four hours’ rest. I’ll take charge of one team, I want you to take the other,’ he said to Plunkett.

‘Are you sure you don’t want Jim Whelan to do it?’ Plunkett replied cautiously.

‘No. You’ve been with this from the start and …’ McEvoy stopped.

‘And what?’

‘And nothing.’ Wanting to say that he didn’t think Whelan was the right person for the job; that it needed someone with a bit more dynamism and communication skills. ‘I’ll take Charlie Deegan and Johnny Cronin. You take Whelan and Flanagan. His experience will counter her greenness.’

‘Okay.’

‘Good.’ He turned in his seat to look back at Jacobs. ‘Kathy, we’re going to need you to tell us what to look for, what signs might help us identify him before he strikes.’

‘I’ll do my best, but I can’t make any promises. I still need to go through the full case files to get a better sense of him.’

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