Page 89 of The Echo Man (Major Crimes)

She feels his dark eyes rest on her face. She goes to answer, but her throat tightens. She can’t remember the last time anyone asked if she was all right. She swallows, but before she can protest, thick tears start to fall. She brushes them away, annoyed.

“I’m sorry,” Cara manages to say. “You aren’t here for waterworks.”

He closes the door behind him and walks over to sit next to her.

“You don’t need to apologize,” he says softly. “This is a fucking shitty case, and you have the unlucky job of being SIO. It’s not surprising you’re feeling the stress.”

She clears her throat again, looking up to try to dispel the tears. She’d never cry in front of the team, show her uncertainty or weakness, but Noah is different.

“I’m just so fucking shattered. I haven’t seen the kids properly for days.”

“So go home. Have a nap,” he says, but she’s shaking her head even before he’s finished talking.

“You know I can’t do that.” She laughs hollowly. “Look around the office.” Cara gestures toward the door, where she knows her detectives are hard at work on the other side. “Nobody’s had a break. Everyone’s feeling the stress. I’m not quitting on them. I’m not quitting on the women, the men he’s killed.”

He leans forward, closer to her, and for a moment she thinks he’s going to hold her hand. But he moves backward again, and a fleeting thought passes through her mind: What would she have done if he had?

Next to her, her phone starts to buzz. She doesn’t recognize the number, so she lets it ring out.

She takes a deep breath, then remembers the box of evidence in her office. “And can you deal with those notebooks? Find a handwriting expert, something like that, see if they can shed any light?”

He nods. “Business as usual then?” he says with a half-hearted smile.

“Business as usual, Deaks,” she finishes, and the phone goes off again. “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” she mutters, and answers it.

“DCI Elliott? This is Steve Gray. From the Chronicle.”

Cara almost hangs up. She hasn’t got the time for this shit. “How did you get my number? I haven’t got anything to say about the case. Please speak to PR as usual.”

“No, DCI Elliott, wait. We’ve got something you need to see.”

His tone makes her pause. He sounds panicked.

“What?”

“A letter. We’ve been sent a letter,” he splutters. “And we think it’s from the killer.”

CHAPTER

52

CARA AND DEAKIN stand in the newspaper editor’s office. The note is in front of them on the desk, now enclosed in a see-through plastic evidence bag. Nobody speaks.

The journalist and his editor watch them. Steve Gray is short, blond, thin; his editor, the exact opposite, with a round fleshy face and button eyes. They both seem unnerved but annoyingly excited.

The letter had arrived the day before in a plain white envelope, the address written on the front in blue felt tip. Please Rush to Editor it says below the address, but it had been ignored until this morning, when they had opened it and a piece of black material had fluttered out.

“Gave us a shock, I can tell you,” Gray had said, pointing to the fabric, still left on the desk where it had fallen. With a gloved hand Cara put it in another evidence bag.

The note inside is written on a piece of white lined paper in the same pen. Cara reads it again.

This is the Echo Man speaking

I am the murderer of the

couple over by

Salterns Hill last

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