boy.’
‘Similar to the weapon used on our victim,’ Sean said.
‘Well, well,’ Donnelly added.
Sally wasn’t finished. ‘But Korsakov’s luck ran out. He spent too long with the boy. A constable from the Parks Police was sneaking through the woods looking for flashers. Apparently they’d had a rash of them in the park. He came across more than he bargained for. The file says the constable initially thought it was a bit of al fresco gross indecency between consenting males. Then he saw the bindings around the boy’s wrists.
‘Korsakov sees the constable and makes a break for it, but the game is over and he gets nicked before he’s gone fifty feet. The arrest was made by Parks Police. CID at Richmond inherited the job. According to the investigating officer’s notes on the case, he came to the conclusion it was a planned attack: Korsakov had the laced beer with him. CID suspected he had previously targeted the boy, specifically because he had learning difficulties.
‘This is the bit you’ll like. The investigating detective noted how Korsakov had a heightened state of awareness of forensic evidence.’
‘Well, our boy certainly has that,’ Donnelly said.
‘He wore a condom throughout the assault. He also wore a pair of leather gloves that were brand new and he was wearing a waterproof jacket and trousers. He had an empty bin liner in his pocket.’
Sean understood waterproofs were usually made of tightly woven nylon and could be as effective at preventing forensic evidence transferring from the suspect to the victim and vice versa as a forensic suit.
Sally went on: ‘I’ve saved the best till last. When Korsakov was stripped and examined back at the nick, they discovered he’d shaved all his pubic hair off. He later claimed he’d had a dose of pubic crabs and had had to shave it all off.’
‘Shaved his pubes off,’ Donnelly said. ‘Now that’s dedication.’
‘But he wasn’t convicted?’ Sean asked.
‘No,’ Sally answered. ‘He wasn’t convicted of the rape. He was, however, convicted of serious fraud. His home was searched as part of the investigation and they found a shitload of papers relating to a pensions company he’d established. The investigating detectives took a dislike to him …’
‘I can’t think why,’ Donnelly chipped in.
‘… so they decided to stir up as much trouble as they could. Phoned around people who’d signed up to his pension company. Made some inquiries as to where he’d invested their money. Turned out the whole thing was a con. There was no pension company – or at least, not a real one. The money was going towards keeping Korsakov in the lifestyle he’d become accustomed to. Nice house, BMW and a Range Rover, villa in Umbria …
‘He’s a conman. A good one. An excellent forger of documents, too. He forged clients’ signatures and increased their payments without them even knowing. He’d also forged himself numerous official documents. Passports. Driving licences. All for different countries. There appears to be no end to his talents.
‘He’d stolen more than two million pounds. Mainly from the elderly. He was finally convicted after a three-month trial and sentenced to four years’ custody. The money was never recovered. Released from Wandsworth prison on 24 August 1999.
‘Since his release he’s not been heard of. No arrests or convictions. Nothing.’
‘Why wasn’t he convicted of raping the boy?’ Sean asked. ‘Seemed straightforward.’
‘The boy withdrew the allegation. His parents thought it would be best for him not to go through the courts. They were worried about the press finding out. Making the boy’s life a public freak show. So he walks on the rape, but the investigating officers do their best to screw him anyway and he goes down on the fraud charges.’
Sean spoke again. ‘Offenders who commit this sort of crime don’t strike once then never again. No matter what the risks, he would have re-offended. He couldn’t have remained dormant for so long.’
‘Agreed,’ Sally said. ‘Which means he’s either dead, left the country, found God and changed his ways or …’ She stopped short.
‘Or?’ Sean encouraged.
‘Or he’s become someone else. Used his forgery and fraud skills to create a new identity for himself. A new life.’
‘What’s Korsakov look like?’ Sean asked, a seed of an idea germinating in his mind.
‘I don’t know,’ Sally replied. ‘There’s no photograph on file. Only a description.’
‘Which is?’ Sean asked.
Sally checked the file. ‘Male, white. Back in ninety-six he was twenty-eight years old, slim, athletic build, short light brown hair and no identifiable marks, scars or tattoos.’
Sean and Donnelly exchanged glances. ‘Sound like anyone we know?’ Donnelly asked.
Sean shook his head. ‘I know what you’re thinking, but they can’t be the same person. This guy’s got a conviction, so his prints are on file. Hellier has no prints on file, so he can’t have been convicted of anything otherwise his prints would be too, no matter what name he’d been convicted under.’
Donnelly knew Sean was right. ‘Shame.’
‘However,’ Sean added, ‘it won’t hurt our case to look into it. Sally, you stay with it. First thing in the morning, start finding out all you can about Korsakov. See what Richmond have on him and track down the original investigating officer.’
Sean turned to Donnelly. ‘Have you still got that snapshot of Hellier I took?’
‘Aye,’ Donnelly answered and pulled the photograph from his jacket pocket, handing it to Sean who in turn handed it to Sally.
‘If you do track the investigating officer down, show him this,’ Sean told her. ‘See if he recognizes him.’
‘I thought you said it couldn’t possibly be Hellier?’ Donnelly argued.
‘No harm in double checking. Kill the possibility off once and for all.’ Sean turned to Sally. ‘Once you’ve done that, concentrate on this Korsakov character until you’re happy you’ve got enough to eliminate him as a viable suspect.’
‘And if I can’t eliminate him?’
‘You will,’ Sean assured her. ‘You will.’
Hellier only ventured out twice all day − once to the local shop for the Sunday papers and then later for an afternoon stroll with his family around the leafy suburban streets. Both his children held on to their mother’s hands as Hellier walked a few paces behind.
He couldn’t have made it easier for the surveillance team to follow him. He thought he had spotted some of them. Hard to tell, best to stay paranoid for the time being. Always assume the worst. That way he would never be caught cold.
Now he sat in his cream and steel kitchen watching his wife clear up after the evening meal. He pushed his half-eaten food away and sipped on a glass
