Free Black Noise by Pekka Hiltunen

contacts in the police to see if any theories were circulating about the murders. Berg would help Rico with the videos.
    ‘Lia, I have a meeting set up for you in two hours, so you’ll have time to prepare a little.’
    Lia looked at Mari inquisitively.
    ‘It’s with a woman who knows everything there is to know about anti-gay crime in Britain.’
    ‘Why are we in such a rush? We can’t know for certain that more of these murders are going to take place,’ Lia said.
    ‘I’m afraid we can,’ Mari said, nodding to Rico, who pulled up some sort of number list on the display.
    ‘Here are the durations of all of the black videos,’ Rico said.
    The shortest of them was a little over two minutes, the longest almost six. The three snuff films perfectly matched the lengths of three of the black videos.
    ‘They’re going to make ten of them,’ Mari said.
     
    The offices of Gallant stood on King’s Cross Road, an area Lia didn’t know particularly well due to its old reputation as a home to drug dealers, prostitutes and heavy traffic.
    She didn’t exactly have to look for the organisation’s building since the entrance was pasted with rainbow flags and posters of people with serious, accusing faces. The woman Lia had come to meetlooked hard too. Annie Bayhurst-Davies’ face was full of piercings, and her ample body was more covered by tattoos than her thin tank top. It was as though she wanted to say as much as possible about herself at once using her appearance.
    Lia had assumed that she would have to explain her visit to the executive director of Gallant, but Bayhurst-Davies didn’t ask. Instead, she was more interested in the way Lia had arranged the meeting.
    ‘This morning I received a call from the one person in the world who never has to ask anything of me. All she has to do is tell me what she wants,’ Bayhurst-Davies said once they had shaken hands and taken their seats in her office. ‘My teacher at Lancaster University in the gender studies department. My dear, dread guru.’
    Lia concealed a smile. Mari had gained them access to the head of Gallant in a way she couldn’t refuse.
    ‘I really appreciate you taking the time to meet me,’ Lia said.
    ‘My old teacher is the worst shrew in all of Lancashire, a real shrew. She doesn’t do favours,’ Bayhurst-Davies continued. ‘How did you know to contact her, and why was she willing to vouch for you?’
    ‘I know a person who knows people,’ Lia said.
    Gallant was a London organisation that opposed violence against gay and lesbian people. Like many other gay organisations, it also reacted against any attacks on other sexual and gender minorities. That was why the clumsy acronym LGBTI often appeared in the organisation’s press releases: lesbians, gays, bisexuals, transsexuals and intersexuals, i.e. people who had physical characteristics of both sexes. Towards the acronym and Annie Bayhurst-Davies, Lia felt both great empathy and some degree of hesitation.
    Rights for everyone regardless of sexual orientation or gender identity, yes. But there were times, Lia had to admit to herself, that the ways people exposed their bodies, aggressively asserting their queer identity, made her ever so slightly uncomfortable. She wanted to understand though.
    ‘This morning I’ve had three TV interviews and one big press conference. Tonight I have another event and a slew of interviews, and I’m supposed to be issuing statements for the foreign press,’ Bayhurst-Davies rattled off.
    The message was clear:
Don’t waste my time.
    ‘I may be able to help you,’ Lia said.
    The woman looked Lia over.
    ‘Good,’ she finally said. ‘What do you want to know?’
    Lia began with the most important thing: why would anyone want so desperately to attack gay people that they would kick them to death and then stream videos of the murders? Who would do something like that?
    ‘I don’t know,’ Bayhurst-Davies replied quickly. ‘These killings are in a category of