Free Crossing the Line (Kerry Wilkinson) by Kerry Wilkinson

white or Asian. It was
    just about the women and power.’
    ‘Was it true people stopped going out?’
    ‘Pretty much. They sent officers up from the Met to give us a presence but there were more of us
    out in the centre than there were normal people. Pubs, cinemas, restaurants – you name it, they were
    closing because no one was visiting. It felt like the whole city was dying.’ He paused for a sip of
    bitter. ‘Sorry, wrong choice of word.’
    ‘What happened?’
    ‘It pushed him out to the edges. The final two victims were found in Altrincham and Bury. That
    took it out of Manchester and then the politicians started to notice. There was this pub hidden away in
    the back streets near Ardwick Green that we used to go to but you know what journalists are like –
    they can smell a boozer from five miles away. As soon as they knew where we were, we had all the
    nationals in there – and then it went massive. Front page of all the papers, TV news, Prime Minister
    threatening to send the army in to patrol the streets if need be.’
    Jessica puffed out her cheeks and breathed heavily, before opening the next bag of crisps.
    ‘Exactly.’ Niall continued. ‘I’d been a DI for a couple of years and generally knew what I was
    doing but this case was too big. The DCI was trying to run things – this big guy called Thorpe – then
    the super was around plus everyone and anyone. No one knew what they were supposed to be doing
    because we didn’t know who we were reporting to. If a victim had shown up in Liverpool or
    Birmingham then God only knows the panic it would have caused. You could have had a whole nation
    of women afraid to go out in the dark.’
    ‘But you got him?’
    Niall took a large mouthful, swilling it in his mouth before swallowing and reaching for a crisp. He
    seemed sheepish, almost embarrassed, not wanting the credit. ‘It’s never just one person, is it? The
    media need a name they can build up or knock down. You’ve seen it today with that inspector—’
    ‘Esther.’
    ‘Yes. Back then, they were after a hero, and it was me.’
    ‘How did you get him?’
    ‘It was the bleach. Now you have the forensics and all the fingertip teams but it wasn’t like that.
    We assumed he’d got a bottle of the stuff from the supermarket, or wherever, and tipped it over the
    body to wash everything away. It had pretty much been overlooked because everyone just thought the
    guy was some sicko and we were looking for certain types of profiles. I went looking at local
    cleaning companies and that’s where we found Colin Rawlinson. He was working at this factory
    where Stretford meets Eccles. I was going from place to place and spotted him one afternoon loading
    a large bottle of this blue stuff into the back of his car. He’d split with his wife and she’d taken the kid but there were all these women’s clothes at his place. Thorpe and I brought him in for questioning and
    the guy cracked. We found the knife buried in his garden, we had the connection to the bleach and that
    was that.’
    Jessica finished her second glass of wine, letting Niall’s story sink in. No wonder he wasn’t keen
    to talk about it; the pressure must have been horrendous.
    ‘The paper said you were promoted afterwards.’
    Niall shrugged. ‘We both were. I got the DCI’s job and he moved up too. I think everyone was so
    relieved it was over that we could have pushed for whatever we wanted. I didn’t even ask for it.’
    ‘What happened to Thorpe?’
    ‘Died a few years ago – heart attack. It comes to us all.’
    Jessica’s phone began to ring, her mother still trying to get through, but she stopped the call before
    it rang a second time.
    Niall raised his eyebrows, finishing his own drink. ‘Mother again?’
    ‘She always calls at the worst times.’
    Niall finished the last of the crisps, leaving the table a mass of empty packets, frothy glasses and
    crumbs. ‘I said before, when you get to our age, sometimes your kids