“Here’s what we’re going to do, Coads,” he said as he switched his mobile off. “You said that the Kombi van had St Joseph’s or St Michael’s written on it. So we’re going to go home and do some research on the internet. It’s probably a Catholic church charity of some kind. Maybe a boys’ home. Or a school. And prolly”—Luigi started getting excited—“in the inner city.”
“Why?”
“Well, you said the Kombi was rusty and the paint was worn. And the suburban parishes have money. All those middle class people. But the inner city is where the Housing
Commission flats are and the reffos. And
he’s around here. In these streets. This is his stamping ground.”
“But wouldn’t he find his victims away from his own area? Wouldn’t that be much safer? He’d be less likely to be recognised.”
“Maybe,” conceded Luigi. “And yet,
if it was him you saw, then this is his stamping ground. He was doing shopping, here, not out in the suburbs.
Anyway, even though Colin will help us, I think we need to do some of
our own sleuthing. What harm could it
do? We c’n go and look at each of the
most likely places and see if the van is there.
And if it is we can tell Colin when he comes into the city.” He was silent for a few heartbeats. Then he added, “We’re not helpless. We can fight back.”
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