by Tana Collins
He heard Tamm give a short burst of laughter. Even his laugh sounded nervy. ‘Sorry, that was my colleague, Gunnar, making an inappropriate joke.’ Carruthers heard Tamm fire off a burst of Estonian. ‘I’ve told him to tell the boss I’ll be there soon.’
‘Just one thing.’ He dropped his voice so Carruthers had to strain to hear him speak. ‘Don’t talk to anyone but me about this. We must be careful who we trust with this information. I’ll explain more when we next speak.’
He hung up. Carruthers was left feeling puzzled. He hadn’t even had a chance to ask about Olev Lepp. Nor had he had a chance to talk about Marika Paju and the discrepancy over her age. He stood up, left his office. Went in search of Bingham. The Superintendent’s door was locked. He walked up to Brown on the front desk. ‘Has Superintendent Bingham left for the day?’
Brown smoothed back the few strands of hair he still had. ‘Yep. Said goodnight on his way out.’
Carruthers sighed. He returned to his office and started a search for anything he could find out on Estonia and the Estonian Mafia, even Kurat, the devil.
He was in no rush to get home early. He had nothing to greet him except a pot noodle or a portion of frozen lasagne. He considered calling Gill and dismissed the idea. He briefly wondered if he should get a dog. A dog would be great company for when he went hill-walking. However, as soon as the thought arose he dismissed it. When would he have time to walk it? It wouldn’t be fair. Now he knew Jodie was back he thought about ringing her and apologising. But he’d already done that. She hadn’t accepted his apology first time round. What would be the point of trying again?
11
At 8am the following day Carruthers was poised by the phone with pen and paper at the ready, eagerly awaiting Mikael Tamm’s call back. When half an hour had gone by he thought the man was just late. He stood up, walked over to his office door and stuck his head out. Fletcher had just walked past. He called her over, apologised for asking her to fetch him a coffee but he didn’t want to miss Tamm’s call.
He drank the coffee slowly, brooding about recent events. Still no call from Tamm. He got Harris to man the phone while he visited the toilet. Met Bingham in the hall.
‘I’m waiting for a call back from Inspector Mikael Tamm,’ Carruthers said, wondering why Bingham was in on a Sunday and not on the golf course.
‘OK, as soon as you have any news… I’ll be in my office.’
Another thirty minutes went by. He got on with some paperwork. Carruthers glanced at his watch in frustration. Amazed to see he had been waiting ninety minutes. The time of an entire game of football. In the end he picked up the phone, dialled the Tallinn Police Station and asked to speak with Tamm.
As soon as he made contact he knew something terrible had happened. When he asked for Tamm the woman on the other end of the phone burst into tears. She passed the phone to a male colleague. His English wasn’t so good and it was hard to piece together why Tamm couldn’t get to the phone. He heard some shouting in the background and a woman crying. A short burst of Estonian mentioning Tamm’s name. Then the line went dead.
Carruthers thumped the table top in frustration. Fuck. He sprinted out of his office and into the open plan of the DS’s. ‘Andie!’ he called out. ‘Can you get hold of that Estonian lad who started in records? I need someone here who speaks Estonian.’
She picked up her phone. ‘He won’t be working, Jim. It’s Sunday.’
‘Shit. Of course it is. Ring anyway. There may be someone there. See if they have a home number for him, will you?’
Fletcher lifted the phone and made the call. ‘You’re in luck, Jim. There’s such a backlog they’ve drafted in staff for the weekend. Daniel Root’s one of them. He’s coming over.’
Carruthers checked his email – not one of them from Estonia.
The knock pulled Carruthers’ attention to the door. He saw a young blond man he didn’t recognise.
‘Daniel?’
The man nodded as he came in, bringing the scent of coffee, obviously from the mug in his hand. ‘Daniel Root. You need my help?’
After explaining what he needed, Carruthers hit redial and passed the phone to Daniel. Listening to one side of a conversation was always odd, even more so when he had no idea what the conversation was about. Nor was he sure why Daniel was frowning. When Daniel started biting his bottom lip and holding his breath, Carruthers feared the worse.
Daniel was ashen-faced when he put the phone back down. ‘Tamm’s been killed.’
Carruthers took in a deep breath.
‘What happened?’ asked Carruthers.
‘He was following up a lead they had on one of their cases. He, another officer and his boss. Had a tip-off from an informant. They walked into a trap. All three were killed. Shot.’
No wonder the woman had been crying, thought Carruthers. In some ways he felt like crying himself and he didn’t even know the man.
‘Is there anything else?’ asked Carruthers.
‘That’s about all the information I got. I could tell the man I spoke to was deeply affected by the deaths. His voice was shaking.’
‘Well, if all three were based at the same police station, he would be. It’s a huge loss. To lose two colleagues and his boss… well…’ Carruthers trailed off. He was remembering when his nemesis, Superintendent Alistair McGhee, had taken a bullet for him in the line of duty and how emotional he had felt. That moment had been a turning point for him. Up until then he had blamed McGhee for his marriage going wrong, even for his wife leaving him. When McGhee had saved his life Carruthers had realised something important. McGhee hadn’t been the all-encompassing shit he’d made him out to be any more than he, Carruthers, had been the perfect husband. Ultimately it had been his own jealously that had driven his wife away. He wondered if Mikael Tamm had a wife – who would now be a widow.
‘Sorry it was such awful news,’ Daniel turned to go.
‘Wait,’ said Carruthers, ‘I don’t want to intrude on their grief but I need to know what they were investigating. Tamm said something to me about the cases colliding – his and mine. We need to give them a call back.’ He re-established the connection and gave Daniel the phone. ‘And ask whoever picks up to check Tamm’s desk. He was going to send me over some details of a man called Aleks Voller. I also need to try to speak to someone about Marika Paju. I didn’t get a chance to tell them she’s not our dead girl.’
Carruthers held his breath, praying that Tamm wasn’t as untidy as him. ‘His desk’s been cleared of paperwork,’ said Daniel. ‘Nobody knows what he’s done with the files. I didn’t manage to ask about Marika Paju. Sorry.’
‘Oh fuck.’ Carruthers experienced an uncomfortable feeling. Why would the man’s desk have already been cleared of paperwork? ‘Ask them to stand by, will you? I’m going to send over the artist’s impression we’ve got of our man again and see if anyone else recognises him as Voller. Also see if they can give us anything on Marika Paju.’
Carruthers noticed Daniel glance at his wristwatch, a troubled look clouding his face.
‘If you’re worried about your boss in records, I’ll give them a call,’ said Carruthers.
Daniel nodded, a look of relief on his face. ‘We’re short-staffed. I don’t want to get into trouble. It’s only my second week.’
Carruthers picked up the phone, made the call, then got a fresh brew of coffee and kept vigil by his computer. Just when he was about to give up, he noticed an incoming mail. From Estonia. It was in Estonian.
‘This has been emailed by a man named Janek Kuul, a close colleague of Inspector Tamm,’ said Daniel, sometime later. ‘It hasn’t been emailed from the police station but a private residence. He also said the photograph you sent had the likeness of this Aleks Voller. You’re not going to be happy when you hear this…’
‘Just give it to me, anyway,’ said Carruthers, standing up.
‘It seems Kuul was a close colleague of Tamm. The only reason he wasn’t with him when he was killed
was because he took two days off due to a summer cold.’
So he’ll be suffering survivor’s guilt, more than likely, thought Carruthers. It was how he had felt after McGhee had been shot attempting to save him. He looked at the young Estonian questioningly.
Daniel said, ‘It appears Tamm was investigating Aleks Voller in relation to a drugs and prostitution racket. But he was keeping it quiet from some of his colleagues at the station.’
‘Does it say anything about where the connection with the Estonian Mafia comes in?’ asked Carruthers, leaning forward, arms resting on the desk.
Daniel scanned the email. ‘It hasn’t been corroborated but the evidence Tamm uncovered points to Aleks Voller having links with the Mafia through a venture that was netting him a huge amount of money.’
‘Any idea what that venture was?’
Daniel looked at Carruthers. ‘Again this is uncorroborated but Tamm was convinced it was a series of high-end art thefts.’
Carruthers’ heart did a somersault.
Daniel continued, ‘When he got killed he was meeting a man who said he had information about the exact connection between Aleks Voller and the Mafia.’
‘Oh my God,’ said Carruthers. He sat down heavily on his chair, incapable of further conversation.
‘He also said one other thing. Not to contact him again or ask more questions. It’s too dangerous.’
Carruthers remembered what Mikael Tamm had said. Kuul sounded scared. ‘Maybe they don’t trust someone at the station? Perhaps someone’s leaking information? If that’s the case and the Mafia are involved, it could be dangerous for them. I don’t know the specifics of what things are like in Estonia but I would imagine a lot of these former Soviet-run countries still have their spies.’
‘A lot of these mobster groups in Estonia are of Russian origin. So many different groups are now in operation.’ Daniel sighed. ‘We have a big fight against organised crime.’
Carruthers ran his hands through his short hair. He turned to Daniel, who now seemed lost in his own thoughts. ‘Thank you. You’ve been really helpful. I’m going out for some air.’ He grabbed his jacket and left, thinking he hadn’t seen the direction this would go at all.
He knew he should report this to Bingham but instead Carruthers reached over for his car keys and headed out to the parking lot. A light rain was falling. A thick band of cloud was making everything appear dull and lifeless. Carruthers needed some thinking time. Didn’t have a destination in mind but twenty minutes later found himself standing at the top of the cliffs overlooking the beach where the girl’s body had been found. This was where it had all started. With the discovery of the girl. Or had it started further back, with the first art theft? He didn’t know.
Despite it being August he shivered, turning his collar up. He regretted wearing his red lightweight jacket. The wind cut through him. His eyes scanned the beach, the only movement a group of black-headed gulls. The wind picked up and he stood gazing at the waves breaking onto the sand. There was a strong smell of sea salt in the air. Breathing it in, he could taste it on his tongue. The rhythmic motion of the waves soothed him. For a moment he felt at peace; until he remembered that this spot had been the scene of the unknown girl’s death.
What was he going to do now Mikael Tamm was dead? He had instinctively felt he understood Tamm, could trust him. Had only spoken to him for a few minutes but it was a blow.
He started to walk over the grassy cliffs towards where he’d found the binoculars. This area had already been searched but he found himself looking for anything that had been missed. He scanned the beach, his eyes remaining on the now deserted spot where the girl’s body had lain. What a lonely spot to meet your end, he thought. What was she doing here? And why here? Did she throw herself off the cliffs or was she pushed?
He scanned the horizon and the sea. Something dark was bobbing up and down in the water. Could it be a buoy? He wished he had his binoculars. He studied it intently. It suddenly disappeared. It surfaced a few metres away. He suddenly got a look at the profile. His heart leaped. It was a seal. A moment of happiness. He watched it bobbing up and down for a few minutes then reluctantly he turned away from the sea and started to walk back towards his car, checking his mobile for messages as he opened the driver’s door. He had missed calls from both Fletcher and Bingham. He climbed in and switched on the engine.
12
Twenty minutes later Carruthers was sitting behind his desk tapping his fingers on his desktop. He was feeling edgy. He’d lost a man in Inspector Tamm who could have been a useful ally. His options were now limited. His best bet was to pay Barry Cuthbert another visit and to lean on him. Heavily. He didn’t want to admit that Mikael Tamm’s death was making him nervous, anxious, depressed.
Harris put his head round the office door. ‘The Super wants to see you, boss.’
As soon as Harris disappeared, Carruthers rolled his eyes. He was starting to dread these summonses. Reluctantly he left his office and walked the short distance to Bingham’s. The door was ajar. He tapped on the door but didn’t wait for a response. As he put his head round he was most surprised to see Bingham pulling open a drawer at his desk and bringing out two heavy crystal whisky glasses. Even more surprised to see him heading to his cabinet and extracting a bottle of Laphroaig. He poured a generous measure of whisky into both and held one out. He offered no water. ‘Come in, man. Come in.’ Carruthers walked into his superior’s office and took the glass.
Instead of sitting in the chair he had grown to despise, Carruthers pulled up another chair from a corner of the office. Since they were clearly declaring some sort of truce he would oblige. He sat balancing the glass on his good knee. He’d been taking fewer painkillers although the knee was still swollen. He wondered if he’d got away with it. Perhaps the knee would settle down on its own. He stared into the amber liquid before taking a deep draught of it, enjoying the burning sensation when it caught at the back of his throat. He took his whisky neat. He hoped he wouldn’t have to drive anywhere for a couple of hours.
Bingham ran his finger round the rim of his glass before taking a sip. He looked up at Carruthers. ‘Do you know why Mikael Tamm was killed?’
Carruthers cleared his throat before speaking. ‘His colleague told me he was working to reveal the connection between Aleks Voller and the Estonian Mafia. He had discovered evidence that links Aleks Voller, not just to prostitution but also to a series of art thefts.’
Bingham gulped his drink back. Carruthers stared into the rheumy eyes of his superior. He had the impression this wasn’t Bingham’s first of the day.
‘Christ,’ the Superintendent said.
‘With Mikael Tamm out of the picture the only link we’ve got is Barry Cuthbert. We need to lean on him and hard,’ said Carruthers.
‘What about this other contact of yours?’ asked Bingham.
Carruthers shook his head. He swirled the whisky round the glass, coating the sides in the golden liquid. ‘Too scared to get involved.’ He took a gulp himself. ‘Made it pretty clear he’s not willing to give me any more information.’
Bingham nodded. ‘I’ve been blinded by my own stupidity. Never trust new money. God alone knows where it came from.’
‘Well, I think in this case we may have just found out.’
‘If it is true though, why was Cuthbert targeted?’ Bingham continued. ‘Unless they were teaching him a lesson. The question is, what was the lesson? And they didn’t spare him when they put him in hospital, either.’ He put the drink down and looked up at Carruthers. ‘How is he, by the way?’
‘Looks like he’s on the road to recovery. He’s going to be kept in for a few days.’
‘Best place for him, apart from prison.’
Cuthbert was off Bingham’s Christmas card list, then. Carruthers took another sip of whisky. It looked as if Bingham had had an even bigger shock than he had. Remembering the earlier stale cigarette smoke he had smelt in his boss’s office and now looking at the heav
y crystal glass on the table top, he wondered if the police station was Bingham’s refuge from a failing marriage.
‘Perhaps stealing his art and beating him up was some form of punishment?’ said Carruthers. ‘Maybe Cuthbert got greedy. Tried to double-cross Voller. Perhaps Cuthbert was the one who identified the targets, maybe even did the reconnoitring for the art theft?’
‘The man’s clearly up to his neck.’ Bingham took a final slug of whisky. ‘Perhaps this gang started to get nervous with Cuthbert being the focus of so much police attention,’ said Bingham. ‘The robbery might have been staged to make it look to the police like Cuthbert is innocent. After all, we’re hardly likely to suspect him of being involved if he’s one of the victims.’ He set the glass down on his mahogany desk. ‘Christ, I can’t believe I attended one of his bloody parties. What is this going to do to my career when it gets out?’ He stared into space and remained silent for a few moments. ‘I’m sure with a bit of work we can get him on supplying prostitutes, if nothing else. I had an interesting conversation with one of my golfing friends who also attended the party. After a bit of persuasion he’s prepared to make a statement to say he overheard a conversation about Cuthbert setting up certain select guests with these girls. He’s not involved, you understand. Seems it was all organised in advance. Just as well we’re getting his statement. The other guests are being very tight-lipped about what they saw.’
‘Have you ever, well…’ Carruthers didn’t know how to complete the sentence. ‘Been to a party where prostitutes were supplied?’
Bingham’s mouth dropped open. ‘Good God, Jim, what do you take me for? Of course I haven’t. I’ve only been to Cuthbert’s place once before and that was for lunchtime drinks. Although…’
‘Although what?’
