‘And would we be able to tell if someone’s account was being accessed by more than one device?’
‘Sure. Their account provider would be able to tell you if you could persuade them. They are a bit funny about that but if you tell them it’s a murder enquiry they’ll probably play ball.’
Helen thanked Simon and headed back to the nick. He had proved to be crucial to this case in ways she could never have predicted. Amy had emailed her mum giving her the exact details of when she’d be hitchhiking home. Had the killer accessed these emails and lain in wait? Similarly Martina had emailed her sister – the one person from her old life that she still kept in contact with – asking if she could pay her a visit, get away from Southampton. Was this how the killer had traced Matty? And was this why ‘Cyn’ abducted them when she did, fearing that if Matty/Martina departed to her sister’s in London the opportunity would be lost?
More questions than answers, but finally Helen felt she was getting closer to the truth.
‘Stay away from me.’
Mickery hissed out the words, but Whittaker ignored her, advancing upon her.
‘You lay one finger on me and I’ll scream this whole place down.’
She’d been put in the station infirmary overnight. There she could rest whilst being protected 24/7. The callow PC on duty for the late, late shift hadn’t picked up anything unusual in being allowed a fag break by the station chief. It was yet another sign of what a good bloke he was. Whittaker knew he had five minutes max and intended to make the most of it.
‘I need to know what you’re going to do.’
‘I mean it. Don’t come any closer.’
‘For God’s sake, Hannah, I’m not going to hurt you. It’s me, Michael.’
He attempted to reach out to her, console her, but she pulled away sharply.
‘This is your fault. This is all your -’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. You came to me.’
‘Why didn’t you find me?’
The vulnerability in her voice shocked him.
‘I was in hell, Mike. Why didn’t you find me?’
Suddenly all his anger dissipated and he was filled with pity. He felt a lump in his throat, a sudden welling of sadness. He had first met Hannah in the aftermath of the botched shooting that ended his front-line career. She had counselled him, healed him, and the pair had fallen in love. He’d kept her existence secret because he didn’t want the world to know he had a shrink, but his feelings for her were sincere.
‘We tried, Hannah, my God we tried. We threw everything at it. Every uniform I could spare without arousing -’
Hannah looked up sharply.
‘Without giving yourself away?’