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Chapter 77
‘Nowwhat?’ Poe asked.
‘Just a moment, Poe,’ Bradshaw replied. She reached across him, ran her finger across the laptop’s trackpad and moved the cursor above ‘Game on’. ‘I think this is probably a link to the live website.’
She clicked it.
A new window opened. Poe stared at the screen. ‘Shit,’ he muttered.
The Botanist’s website was black with red writing. It looked disturbingly professional. It was a single-page site. There was no menu, no ‘about’, ‘home’ or ‘contact us’ pages to explore. He had written a short intro.
A note from the man you call the Botanist
You are my people and I work for you. So far it has been a privilege to punish on your behalf. The misogynists, the corrupt, the morally bankrupt – all have been tested and all have failed. But, my friends, I was being selfish. Greedy, even. Why should I choose who faces judgement? I am but a man and I have foibles and prejudices like everyone else. I see you wearing your T-shirts and I read what you say on the internet. So, my friends, from now on it isyouwho will decide who dies, not me. #getoutthevote #wehavethepower #stringerorsalt
‘Self-aggrandising bullshit,’ Poe said.
Underneath the introductory paragraph were two photographs, screenshots of newspaper articles. Chrissie Stringer’s was from theDaily Express, and Douglas Salt’s was from theNew York Times.Both headlines screamed, ‘Monster!’ Under each photograph was a ‘Vote now’ button and a counter. So far, both were reading zero.
‘People haven’t discovered it yet, Poe,’ Bradshaw said. ‘But they will. They always do. If he knows what he’s doing, and it looks like he does, given how this is set up, he’ll have used SEO to increase the visibility when people search for him online.’
‘SEO?’ Poe said.
‘Search engine optimisation. He’ll have added frequently used keywords to the webpage’s meta data. And people will vote. They like to think they’re part of a movement.’
‘He’s just another serial killer, Tilly.’
‘That may be so, Poe, but this sitewillgive his popularity a boost.’
‘Yeah? Well, wait until the Interpol blue notice coughs up some info.’
‘I didn’t know we’d sent a blue notice.’
‘Chief Superintendent Mathers did.’
Poe talked her through their reasoning. That the Botanist must have practised on people who, in his eyes, were disposable. It was the only way he could have hit the ground running.
‘Anyway, we’ll know …’
He stopped. The first vote had been cast.
Douglas Salt: 00000000
Chrissie Stringer: 00000001
‘It’s started,’ Henning Stahl said.
