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Back Cross and Burn Save as PDF
Chapters (74)
  1. About the Author
  2. Also by Val McDermid
  3. COPYRIGHT
  4. CROSS AND BURN
  5. Dedication
  6. Acknowledgements
  7. Epigraph
  8. 1
  9. 2
  10. 3
  11. 4
  12. 5
  13. 6
  14. 7
  15. 8
  16. 9
  17. 10
  18. 11
  19. 12
  20. 13
  21. 14
  22. 15
  23. 16
  24. 17
  25. 18
  26. 19
  27. 20
  28. 21
  29. 22
  30. 23
  31. 24
  32. 25
  33. 26
  34. 27
  35. 28
  36. 29
  37. 30
  38. 31
  39. 32
  40. 33
  41. 34
  42. 35
  43. 36
  44. 37
  45. 38
  46. 39
  47. 40
  48. 41
  49. 42
  50. 43
  51. 44
  52. 45
  53. 46
  54. 47
  55. 48
  56. 49
  57. 50
  58. 51
  59. 52
  60. 53
  61. 54
  62. 55
  63. 56
  64. 57
  65. 58
  66. 59
  67. 60
  68. 61
  69. 62
  70. 63
  71. 64
  72. 65
  73. 66
  74. 67

‘We’ll have to check out this Maria,’ Fielding said. ‘We’ve only got Anya’s version of events.’

‘Even so, it’s hard to think of any twist on the circumstances that gives Pawel or Maria a motive. Or would provoke the kind of fury that drove this killer. If anybody’s got a possible motive in this scenario, it’s Nadia.’

‘But as we know, McIntyre, motive is the least important piece of the jigsaw. Give me means and opportunity and the complete absence of a decent alibi and I don’t give a toss about motive.’

‘Juries like motive,’ Paula said. ‘People want to know why.’

‘As my mother always used to say to me, want doesn’t get. Facts, McIntyre. Facts.’

‘I take it you’re not an advocate of psychological profiling, then?’

Fielding frowned. ‘There’s no budget for anything you can’t reach out and touch any more. What I believe is neither here nor there. Solid evidence, that’s what we need to focus on. So we’ll get someone to talk to this Maria and we’ll get Devon and Cornwall to pay a visit to Pawel the Shit to see what he’s been up to lately. Because, frankly, we’ve got bugger all else happening for us. Drop me at Skenfrith Street, then swing by the lab and see what the CSIs have got for us. Seeing a human face sometimes acts like a kick up the arse.’ She sighed. ‘Remember the good old days when we were in charge? When we wanted a quick turnaround, all we had to do was tell them to get their fingers out? Now, they’re their own bosses, they claim to rank equal to detective constables in the pecking order and if you want them to move faster than techtonic plates, it costs you about as much as a small family car. Bastards.’

It was hard to disagree. Privatising the Forensic Science Service had turned lead investigators into accountants, sitting down with a calculator to work out which tests their budget could run to. Juries weaned on CSI knew all about forensics, and when the prosecution didn’t reel out all those juicy test results, they assumed it was because the tests didn’t support the case. Not that the tests had never been done because there wasn’t enough money in the kitty and the tests they had done should have been enough to satisfy those sitting in judgement. When you weighed that in the balance, it was hard to argue that Tony Hill was a luxury they should afford.

‘I’ll see what I can chase up,’ Paula said.

‘Good. Because I’m not holding out too much hope for the CCTV footage after all this time. This guy’s smart. We need to be smarter, McIntyre. We need to be smarter.’

27