Girl Changed

by Mark Bailey

  ‘Of course, if we don’t find Nari alive … and don’t get me wrong, Milly, but if we don’t, then anything she’s told you will just be your word against theirs.’

  ‘That’s why I’ve asked you for those mugshots and to come around to my place at Saint Albans Road. We can play that game, the one to get things started before a night in the sack. You would have played it before, Greg, a man of your experience.’

  ‘And what game would that be?’ asked Windsor, smiling more. He couldn’t help himself; Milly made him smile.

  ‘You show me yours, and I’ll show you mine.’ She looked at Stopford as he cringed. He was pretty sure now that Milly was toying with him.

  ‘What do you mean?’ he asked as he looked at his watch nonchalantly like he’d never be interested in anything Milly had to show him. It was just after 9.00 p.m. Both Milly and Windsor had consumed quite a lot of alcohol and Milly was starting to slur her words as she got cheekier.

  ‘I’ve got everything recorded for you. I taped my conversations with Nari, and I took screenshots of Naomi’s Facebook page and her friends, before and after they removed that Kerford creep. I’ve backed everything up to a U.S.B. You can take it with you,’ said Milly as she hiccuped.

  ‘You’re unbelievable,’ said Windsor.

  Unbelievable’s right, thought Stopford, as he helped Milly from her seat. I would have been a shoe-in tonight … the odds would have been unbackable. They dropped her back at her unit, picking up the promised U.S.B. When Stopford and Windsor left, Milly lay asleep on her bed, fully clothed.

  Chapter 25.

  The next morning Windsor drove to Croydon. He plugged Milly’s U.S.B. into his laptop, and he and Stopford viewed and listened to the evidence. They looked at the Facebook entries and changes and then listened to both taped conversations between Milly and Nari.

  ‘There are myriad issues here, so where do you want to start?’ asked Stopford.

  ‘Always start at the beginning, Greg, it’s easier,’ said Windsor calmly. He was feeling slightly ill.

  ‘Alright, we’ll start with that lying piece of excrement, Hanni Dasti. The recording of the conversation alleges she and Kerford crossed paths with Siobhan Russell later that night. If it’s true, and if we can prove it, it changes everything, in my opinion.’

  ‘If either Dasti or Kerford had seen Sibby the night before she was murdered they were, and still are, obliged to tell us,’ replied Windsor. ‘Dasti, at least, has lied to us.’ Windsor wasn’t too excited by Stopford’s claim; he had come to the same conclusion himself.

  ‘Yes, well that’s hardly a revelation; you can tell when Dasti is lying, her lips are moving. Then there’s Dasti directing traffic in and out of the inn and paying Nari Kim. Obviously, she knew what was going on with Kerford and the reason for hiring the room.’

  ‘What evidence do you have of that, Greg?’

  ‘For one, she didn’t clean the room for the next couple of days,’ answered Stopford.

  ‘Wasn’t that because Stewart asked her not to?’

  ‘That question doesn’t even deserve an answer. Siobhan Russell was in the room; that’s why she didn’t clean it. If we can prove an association between Cailin Stewart and Kerford, it too will be a game changer. Then, where did Dasti get the £750 to pay Nari? Cailin Stewart of course. Kerford knew the money was coming to Kim, via Dasti from Stewart. Otherwise, he would have offered to pay Kim himself, and she would have told Milly. As for Dasti, she’d be too smart to use her own money in case she didn’t get it back. If she’s desperate enough to steal jewelry off Sibby Russell’s dead body for cash, she’s hardly going to start giving it away, so some creep could have a free shag … just in case she didn’t get it back.’

  ‘Unfortunately, a link between Dasti and Kerford could be explained away by Kerford using the inn for his extra-marital activities … but I agree with you. An established link between Kerford and Stewart would be substantial,’ replied Windsor again, in a calm manner.

  ‘There has to be a link between Stewart and Kerford,’ continued Stopford; he was starting to rant now. ‘Each knew Kerford’s D.N.A. wasn’t on our systems when this started. If P.C. Stone wasn’t so astute, we’d still have no idea who Kerford is and, as Kim said in the recording, Kerford was careful with the three used condoms after he finished with them. He was in there doing a job. Someone’s got something over him; they needed his D.N.A., and they needed D.N.A. from someone they could trust. Then there’s the Facebook shenanigans and the alleged claims of some sort of pedophile activity or connection with Kerford thrown into the mix.’

  ‘Kim’s comment that Kerford said it would be legal for a change indicates some prior illegal activity,’ said Windsor.

  ‘Maybe that’s what Stewart had over him?’

  ‘Possibly.’

  ‘Then there’s the phone contact between Nari and Kerford.’

  ‘Yes, Greg, but first we need to find Nari Kim or what I fear now will likely be her body. By the way, while we’re discussing Dasti, how did she go in court, on her charge of stealing the jewelry from Sibby Russell?’

  ‘She copped a community sentence as far as I know. She did cooperate and testified in the trial against Stewart.’

  ‘Is that right? With all the running around, the crying and lying and leading us up the garden path, and she gets a community-based sentence to work some Saturday mornings picking up rubbish and cleaning graffiti off walls. It’s disgusting. As far as I’m concerned, if half of what is alleged in this new evidence is true, Kerford and Dasti might just as well have marched Siobhan Russell out in front of a firing squad where Stewart was waiting to pull the trigger.’

  ‘A conspiracy to murder charge is not out of the question. We just have to prove that Dasti and Kerford both knew Sibby Russell before she was murdered.’

  ‘I agree Greg, and at the risk of repeating myself, evidence that Siobhan Russell fronted the night before is a game changer here.’ He could see Stopford’s thought process working; he had seen that look before. It was a gawk, nay, an ogle, he thought, usually transfixed by the presence of a good-looking woman, a set of full pouting breasts and the fleeting chance of some kind of intimate rapport or a sexual encounter. It was very intense.

  ‘And …’

  ‘You are starting to repeat yourself now, Greg,’ interrupted Windsor looking at his watch. ‘I agree, though. All the points you have made are relevant, but first to Nari Kim. We need to find her, some trace of her … or her body or remains. By the way, I’ll organize those mugshots for Milly. What do you think she’s up to?’

  ‘A hundred percent she’s up to something, and mark my words, she knows more than she’s letting on,’ said Stopford and he walked from his temporary office as his phone rang. It was Milly.

  ‘Oh Greg, can you come back here, please?’ Windsor called out after Stopford.

  ‘Hi, Milly, how did you pull up this morning?’ answered Stopford as he completed a U-turn and marched back toward his temporary office.

  ‘Just the usual after a night on the white wine; a headache and my mouth felt like the bottom of a cocky’s cage. Look, I haven’t got a lot of time. I’m on my way to a meeting. I forgot to mention something last night to you guys.’

  ‘Yes, Milly,’ said Stopford laughing.

  ‘There was mention in an article in the paper in Australia about me visiting Sibby’s body in the morgue, and I’m damned if I can work out where they got the information from.’

  ‘Where do you think they got it from?’

  ‘I don’t know, Greg; you’re the detective.’

  ‘Leave it with me,’ said Stopford as he walked into Windsor’s office.

  ‘I’m sorry, your ringing phone distracted me. Unofficially, we’ll be stepping up this search for Nari Kim from just a missing person investigation to … well, I haven’t decided yet … so we can throw more resources at it. Take whoever and whatever you need and don’t leave any stone unturned. I want a result in the next twelve to twenty-four
hours. If the media gets a sniff, tell them it’s just another missing person’s case, but don’t give them any detail. Have I made myself clear, Greg?’

  ‘Crystal,’ answered Stopford as he left the office again.

  Milly walked into her meeting. She had discussed matters with Rosie a couple of times since their meeting with Theo the Saturday afternoon after she got back. Rosie and Stuart were happy to wait another twelve months before moving to Brooklyn. As Rosie had explained, there was a fourth option they hadn’t considered in their original discussion, which had included cohabiting with Mandingo and his sister and drinking Pina Coladas in the Bahamas.

  ‘So, what was the other option you discussed with Theo … a branch in Freeport?’ Milly had enquired of Rosie.

  ‘I wish,’ Rosie had answered smiling. ‘No, Stuart can come on board in a counseling role. There are never enough quality psychologists to fill the counseling positions available here. Remember I told you he never wanted to work with his father? Well, this is an ideal chance to get him involved in the business while Theo is living and working over 5,500 kilometers away in New York. Then, when Theo returns in twelve months, we can all pack up and skedaddle off to the good old U.S. of A.’

  ‘Sounds like a great idea to me,’ Milly had agreed.

  ‘You must promise you will come to Brooklyn, Milly,’ was the one stipulation Rosie had insisted on.

  ‘Absolutely, Rosie,’ Milly had promised.

  ‘This way, we get rid of Theo, I’ll have Stuart working with me and you get to work in a part-time role. As Stuart pointed out, if we go to Brooklyn with Theo and you get busy with your other commitments and things go a bit haywire here, the whole business could fall over, especially if it’s down to staff issues. At least we’ll have Stuart to help us if things get tough, Milly.’

  The three Watford Therapy protagonists stood before Annis Baird. There were two interest groups — Theo in one corner, Milly and Rosie in the other. Annis had drawn up a three-year contract for Milly to sign. She would earn fifteen percent more per hour on her new rate than she was currently earning but with no entitlements, and she must agree to a two-year stint in Brooklyn. Milly didn’t care about the money, but she balked at two years in Brooklyn after a year in the U.K. on casual. She reminded herself of her conversation with Mia and her aunt back in Australia — she had intended to return after two years. Theo was asking for three in total. She hadn’t promised but felt she should help Mia with her aunt; after all, she had done very well out of Uncle James and Aunt Christy.

  ‘Make it a year in Brooklyn, Theo. I can come at that.’

  He agreed to the change, and everyone was happy; there was only one other change. He got to expand the business and spend more time in the U.S.A. He would miss out on some of his grandchildren growing up, but that didn’t worry Theo — he couldn’t care less, thought Milly.

  When Theo left Watford Therapy, nothing could wipe the smile off his face. He had Milly’s new contract; she was locked in. His expansion plans and his legend status as a captain of industry with business interests in the U.K. and the U.S A. would soon be firmly established. Australia would be next, he thought. The business would follow Milly home. When he drove from the car park, and Annis knew he was out of earshot, she asked why the hell anyone of Theo’s age, with a perfectly good and profitable business in the U.K. and a seemingly secure retirement ahead, would place everything at risk with a move to the U.S.

  ‘Well, that’s the thing with Theo; he’s a narcissist with a huge ego,’ answered Rosie. ‘If this move works, he will be unstoppable, invincible, another Jeff Bezos, Elon Musk or even Bill Gates.’

  ‘More like the U.K. equivalent of Conrad Black,’ commented Annis. She covered her mouth; she was embarrassed. She had never spoken out of turn like that before, but she disliked Theo intensely.

  ‘Yes, Annis, I agree,’ said Milly before Annis could mount a retraction. ‘He’s a very ambitious narcissist,’ she said, grinning broadly. ‘The proof will be in the eating. I just hope he doesn’t end up in jail in the U.S. like Conrad Black did.’

  I hope he does, thought Annis.

  As Stopford walked out to the front of the Croydon Police Station, he called on the services of D.S. Politan Slayer. He had relocated to Watford temporarily from New Scotland Yard, and Windsor had met with him that morning to look at Milly’s evidence as they stepped up their search for Nari Kim in what would morph into a hunt for her killer, believed both detectives. Detective Sergeant Slayer stood at over 195 centimeters or six feet five in the old measurements and everything about him was big. He had huge hands, a big nose, big ears and sported the black skin of his sub-Saharan origin, although his light green eyes belied his West Indian heritage. There had obviously been a conjugal meeting with European ancestry and a happy ending, for the male at least, in his not too distant ancestral past, thought Stopford.

  ‘Pleased to meet you, sir. I’m Cosmo Slayer,’ said the detective as he extended his hand to Stopford.

  ‘Pleased to meet you too,’ replied Stopford and he shook Cosmo’s outstretched hand, completely losing sight of his own hand in the time-honored masculine greeting. Stopford looked up at Cosmo as he would the Eiffel Tower. He’s a big ugly brute was his first thought — and then, those bloody green eyes. Cosmo stared down from his lofty position. D.I. Stopford was exhibiting the first signs of male pattern baldness, but Cosmo didn’t say anything because he knew, with his short-cropped hair and slight comb-over, that his new boss was trying his best to hide it.

  ‘Well, it looks like you and I will be the long and the short of it,’ said Stopford, breaking the silence.

  ‘Yes, sir,’ answered Cosmo as he followed Stopford to the squad car.

  ‘Please call me by my name, Cosmo. It’s Greg ... at least in more informal surroundings.’

  ‘As you wish, Greg.’ They sat in the squad car, and Cosmo slid the passenger side seat as far back as it would go.

  ‘It might be easier if we take the front seat out and you belt up in the back seat,’ said Stopford laughing.

  ‘I’m used to it, Greg,’ replied Cosmo. Stopford had a feeling they would get on well together.

  ‘We’re on our way to Kim’s one-bedroom unit on St. Saviours Road. D.C.I. Windsor has upgraded this investigation from a missing person investigation to, in his words an “I haven’t decided yet” investigation. They’ve decided to do some forensic testing, so we’ll drop in for a look on our way past.’

  ‘Where to after that?’

  ‘To have another talk with two of Kim’s colleagues. There are a few we need to get around, and this lawyer friend of Kim’s as well. We’ll talk with him later this afternoon.’ They drove on for a bit.

  Stopford’s phone rang.

  ‘D.I. Stopford speaking.’

  ‘Where are you, Greg?’

  ‘On Lodge Road on our way to Kim’s unit.’

  ‘Right, turn around and head back here, please. The unit has been turned into a crime scene, so I don’t want you and Cosmo walking all over the place dropping your D.N.A. everywhere. Forensics have located Kim’s body.’

  ‘On our way back now, sir,’ said Stopford as he completed a U-turn for the second time today at Windsor’s request.

  Chapter 26.

  It was lunchtime Friday, and Milly filled in some time at work wandering through the Doe Network website. She wanted to add Nari to the list of those missing in the U.K., but Stopford had asked her to wait until police officially listed her as a missing person. One good thing about moving to Brooklyn would be the time she could spend following the network and maybe meeting its people. It was a quiet day. She had two counseling sessions that afternoon and would need to stick around as her current employment position continued through to close of business, May 31, the following Wednesday night. That was the second change Milly had made to her new contract. Theo wanted her in a full-time role until June 30.

  When she had visited Joe in prison, Milly had requested photos of Sim and Niall.
She knew the police wouldn’t have a mugshot of Sim as he’d never been charged. The irony wasn’t lost on Milly. The process of criminal identification, fingerprints, D.N.A. and a mugshot of the biggest criminal by far in the Charles family and possibly one of the biggest criminals in Scotland, she thought, didn’t hang in any police archive. No one would ever be sure of the exact circumstances of Niall’s death. Were drugs involved, wondered Milly. One family member had died, and another was in prison, both probably because of drugs, while Sim flew as free as a bird.

  Their mother Deonaid was the best option for photos of Niall and Sim, advised Joe. Gus Charles had removed all photos with Sim in them from display in the family home. Deonaid had taken them from frames and stored them away for posterity. When Joe enquired as to Milly’s folly, she gave him the same reason she had given Stopford and Windsor — a conference room board for inspiration. Joe had requested Deonaid send Milly the photos when she visited him in prison the week after Milly left Scotland.

  ‘Why photos of Niall and Gus?’ Joe had asked.

  ‘Why not?’ was Milly’s reply. She wasn’t giving anything away.

  Deonaid had come good, and an official-looking document package arrived via Express 48 at Watford Therapy. In the package were three photos of each of her sons and two of Gus thrown in for good measure. A photo of Niall at sixteen caught Milly’s attention. Like Sim and Joe, he was gorgeous. One photo of Sim had been taken six years ago when he was twenty-six. Deonaid had written the age of the boys on the back of each photo. There was an intense family likeness shared by all three boys — no one could miss it — but in Milly’s opinion, Joe and Niall were more alike. Every picture told a story, and she would wait for the mugshots from Rob Windsor and display them alongside the copy she had made from the photos Stopford sent of Kerford to Scotland. She had her evidence board, as she would call it, it just needed setting up, and the photos added; then she would wait for inspiration.