The FACEBOOK KILLER: Part 2 Read Online Free PDF Page B

email.”
    “ What’s the address?” Pearson demanded.
    “ [email protected]”
    “ What’s to say this isn’t that crank again?” Asked Dick.
    “ Oh no,” Pearson shook his head, a broad smile on his face, “this is our man. That obituary I gave you to print, I purposely got his middle name wrong, we called him Calum. His real name is Charles. That’s what he’s telling us here. We’ve got him boys. Dick, can you run a trace on this IP address?”
    “ Forward the email to me please Matthew.”
    “ On it’s way.”
    “ I think I will take that whisky after all, by way of a celebration,” said Pearson.
    “ Em, I wouldn’t celebrate too soon,” Dick interjected, “we might have his email address but we still don’t have a location. He’s re-routing it.”
    “ Matthew send him a reply,” Pearson snapped.
    “ What do you want me to say?”
    “ As him what he wants.”
    Gerradine sent the message, “This could be a long night,” he said, checking his watch.
    “ Somewhere you’d rather be?” Asked Pearson.
    “ I was just thinking about ordering in some pizza. Any takers?”
    “ You’ve got mail!” The electronic voice repeated.
    “ Will you turn that bloody thing off,” cried Pearson, she sounds like my ex.
     
     
     
    Lahore
     
    It never failed to amaze me how I could send a letter 4,000 miles in a matter of seconds. My simple answer to the question was “Justice”.
    I flipped between my emails and the article on The Pakistan Times website. They certainly didn’t mess around in this country. They told it how it was. They had even used the picture of Fatima on the bed. She had been branded “La Whore.” There was no inkling of sympathy. Statements from her family and friends only helped to fortify the condemnation. She was no loss.
    “ Justice? For what?” Was Gerradine’s best reply.
    “ Do not treat me like an idiot! I can just as easily disappear again.”
    I would bet the remainder of my life on the fact that wherever Gerradine was, he wasn’t alone. I would guess that he was working with his “informant”, probably someone from Scotland Yard. If this was the case then Gerradine was a bigger mug than I had first thought.
    “ How many more are going to die? Can you call me?”
    Jesus! I had to laugh. If that wasn’t a copper talking?
    “ Mr. Gerradine, please do not take me for a fool. I know that you have most probably involved a certain faction of the Police by now, and if you would be so gracious as to pass on this message for me, I would be most appreciative. If Abdul Hamid undergoes a retrial for his crimes, this needless destruction will cease.”
    Before it even arrived in my inbox, I knew what the reply would be. We need fresh evidence. Gerradine took twenty minutes to reply. I guessed that he would pretend to call his friend in the force and pass on the demand, even though he was probably sitting right next to him.
    Surprise, surprise. Just as I had expected.
    “ Sorry for the delay but I have been on the phone with my senior contact in the police force and he informs me that the only way a retrial can be sanctioned is if you are able to supply irrefutable new evidence. Please advise.”
     
    London
     
    “ How the hell can he come up with any new evidence?” Scoffed Pearson, “There were over seventy officers working that case.”
    Gerradine looked contemplative as he finished off his third glass of whisky, “His cousin!” He said, banging the glass down. Pearson didn’t react for a moment.
    “ Jesus Christ, he’s in Pakistan, isn’t he? He’s gone after the cousin,” Pearson realised, “Matthew, you’re a genius. You’re overweight and drink too much but you’re still a bloody genius.”
    “ What was the cousin’s name again, Bill?” Asked Dick.
    “ Ahmed Butt,” Pearson replied, “he disappeared soon after Madison’s wife and daughter died. We always presumed that he had gone back to Pakistan but we came up against a brick