Hooley took his time reading it before handing it to Roper who, by this stage, was getting into the swing of things, reading it attentively before handing it back. “That’s a brilliant call, sir. It makes all the difference.”
The DCI returned it to Brooker. “That's exactly what we wanted. Make sure a detective goes and picks it up straightaway.”
She left without a word and Hooley said, “I think you were about to tell us something, Mr. Savage?”
The man used many more words than Emily Wong – and it took nearly two hours longer trying to provide the same information. The big difference was in his account of being slashed. This was a direct and personal account.
“I couldn’t believe it,” he’d told the two detectives. “The men holding me were so strong I couldn't move. Then one of them produced a knife. You could tell he was enjoying himself. He was a seriously sick man. The first cut, his eyes never left mine, not once. He did it very slowly and deliberately. It was beyond the worst pain I’ve ever experienced. He winked at me when he’d finished the first cut. The girls were screaming blue murder, begging him to stop, but he took no notice.
“When he’d finally finished, he stared at me, this weird expression on his face. Then he actually licked the blood off the knife. I’m telling you; he is one very bad man. Fortunately, the girls were making such a fuss they missed it. And… just to cap it all, they poured lemon juice all over me. It made me feel like I was on fire. They said next time it would be acid.”
That last detail had made Hooley wince. Whatever else was going on here, Savage was painting a powerful picture.
“I presume you needed medical attention. How did you explain your wounds?”
Savage produced a bark of laughter that told of his bitterness.
“They brought someone with them who sewed me up. It was a literal stitch up job. Look, I’ll show you.”
He stood up, gripped the bottom of his t-shirt and pulled it quickly over his head. It was not a pretty sight. Jagged wounds covered his torso. In places they still looked red raw, dull pink in others – and there was one with a large patch of red all around it.
“Their hygiene left a lot to be desired. Even the lemon was useless. It took three courses of antibiotics to get me right and even now some of the wounds flare up and weep. I need to be careful. Fortunately, there’s any number of private GPs around here who’ll keep quiet for cash.”
The DCI called a halt. “We need to assess your information.” If he was impressed by the display, he wasn’t saying.
They had barely got out of the door to the interview room before Roper started talking.
“My Rainbow Spectrum really reacted to that and not in a good way. He was definitely putting on a performance in there. I think he was lying by omission. He has more important information. He’s keeping it back.” Roper paused to catch his breath. “When Susan interrupted us, he was watching you with a calculated expression. It made me think he might have worked out what was going on and was thinking about how to use it to his own advantage. Emily Wong certainly didn’t look like that at any stage…”
When they arrived back at the office, the DCI got him to repeat his observations to Brooker who was fascinated. “What else did you get?”
“He was almost tripping over himself to get his words out about the drugs cartel. It sounded as though he had rehearsed every word and he was doing his best to look as relaxed as possible. It supported the idea that he is trying to distract us.”
Hooley nodded thoughtfully. “Anything else?”
“I still think that industrial espionage has some sort of role to play in this. Admittedly, this has a lot to do with what my Rainbow Spectrum is telling me, rather than any facts – but it does feel as though there is something in it.” He took a drink of water.
“What did you make of him telling us about being slashed?” The question was aimed at Brooker.
“Even watching it over the video link you could feel his pain, but I definitely got a feeling he was putting on a show. I’m not saying it didn’t hurt, but it felt staged.”
Roper was animated. “Exactly right and that is the most important thing.”
They both looked at him quizzically.
“When he was telling us about the slashing, he showed plenty of pain and even anger, but there was one thing missing. Although he talked about fear, he never once showed it. Yet anyone would have been terrified. That tells us something important.
“I think he was a willing victim in his own attack. It would have been hard for him… but not impossible. It obviously convinced the two women it was true. That tells us he is definitely using the drugs thing as a distraction for something else.” Roper paused, taking his colleagues in one final time. “It also tells us that there is someone out there who really scares him. Far more than us.”
Chapter 39
Mary Lou Healy's anger hadn’t exactly subsided, but she was grappling with a realisation that was making her feel uncomfortable. She tried turning the thought away, but she was too honest to block it out effectively.
The idea had crept up on her like a thief in the night. One moment it hadn’t been there and the next it had ripped away her self-protective veneer.
If she was honest, she preferred it when she was filled with righteous anger. At least, then, everything was black and white. It was all his fault and he had duped her, taking advantage of her devotion in a cynical act of betrayal.
Unfortunately, her traitorous brain was getting in on the act. It was almost like there was a conversation going on inside her head and she had no control of it. She shuddered. Was this going to be the start of hearing voices?
This was the argument. “He’s evil and manipulative. I never had a chance against his dominant personality. He made me do it.”
Then the second voice chimed in. “But is that true? You always knew you were playing with fire. Maybe you were a willing victim, always happy to look the other way. He’d never have done it if you hadn’t wanted him to.”
The argument, in various guises, had been running for an hour or more before she was able to shut it down. She realised that she was suffering some sort of victim syndrome. While she might be willing to admit she had been a bit naive, surely, she didn’t deserve to be blamed?
She puffed her cheeks out. She needed to hold herself together or the meeting tonight would go badly.
Suddenly the day was over, and she experienced a sensation like getting off a moving walkway. The clock was showing just after 6pm and staff were starting to pack up. A few stopped by her office, but she put them off until the following day.
Healy had always had strong feelings about the man she would be meeting in just a few hours’ time. At first it had been admiration, then love, and finally, if she was totally honest, the taste of fear.
She knew she really should have contacted the police and left it to them. But her sense of guilt disguised a deeper fear that she was more to blame than she was willing to admit. She was desperate to see him and find out if she needed to be concerned.
Out of nowhere came a vivid memory of him touching her naked body; the image burned into her brain with such power that she only just made it to the bathroom and hunched over the toilet bowl to vomit, painfully and repeatedly.
When the waves of nausea finally passed, she slumped back to the floor. As she lay there, her body covered in an unpleasant cold sweat, she shivered so violently her teeth chattered.
7pm was fast approaching. The destination was a short walk away – and, knowing that she needed to do something physical to release the nervous energy that had been building up inside her, she decided to set off early.
She doubted that he would be early. She had never known him to be punctual. He was the sort of man who believed that forcing others to wait made him the top dog, someone who should never be questioned, someone whose demands were met instantly.
The destination was the penthouse apartment in a compact three storey building which boaste
d a roof that was shaped to look like a wave. It was supposed to add a nautical theme and the developers of the property, which boasted ten apartments altogether, had called it the Old Ship. Local teenagers delighted in replacing the P with a T.
The walk took her along the always busy City Road, to the edge of Islington.
By the time she arrived, she felt she had her nerves under control. She would go in, find out what he knew, work out if she was genuinely in trouble, then call the police. Promising this to herself made her feel better.
Now she stood on the pavement, looking up. As she had expected, all the penthouse lights were off, and the apartment was in darkness. Steeling herself, she walked to a side entrance and entered a six-digit code on the keypad.
This particular building came with some key advantages. First and foremost among these was an underground car park, from which the penthouse could be accessed via a private lift. This ensured the occupants could come and go with a minimal amount of observation. To Healy’s lover, this had been the most important thing. Once their clandestine affair had begun, he had been determined that they should never enter the flat by the normal front entrance. It would only bring them under the scrutiny of the twenty-four-hour porter system – and this was something he was adamant could not be allowed to happen.
The metal security door rattled upwards and she stepped into the dark space. It had been a while since she was last here and it took a second to make sure she was heading in the right direction for the lift.
As she traversed the space, it grew darker. Her shoes made a soft slapping sound on the cold concrete.
Sensing someone else close by, she slowed down and looked around.
It was very dark, and she could barely see her hand. She went to take another step.
Then she froze in paralysing terror.
What looked like green glowing eyes were rushing towards her.
She turned to run but she felt something like a wasp bite on the back of her neck. Her hand reached round instinctively but she was already falling unconscious, collapsing into the arms of the man who had been waiting for her.
He was very strong and had no trouble carrying her over to a dark blue van. As a minor concession to her comfort, she was tossed onto a dirty mattress, followed by the military grade night-vision goggles which landed next to her head.
The man walked over to the entrance ramp to get a signal and called his boss. “Just as you predicted. She turned up early and came in through the garage so no-one will have seen what happened.”
The man on the other end grunted. He never used two words where one would do. “That little potion you’ve given her will keep her under for a couple of hours. Get her here. I have some very important questions for her.”
Chapter 40
Hooley’s sense that they were getting closer to something important was growing stronger. He knew it was imperative they set out the key markers before restarting the interviews.
“I think there are three big things that are in play. The biggest of them all, is this – are the Savage pair, and Emily Wong, going to lead us to the people behind all three attacks? If they’re not, then we’re wasting time.”
He checked to see if either of Roper or Brooker were about to raise an objection and was pleased to see they seemed to agree with this.
“If we do think we’re on the right track, then who is the person Mark Savage is so frightened of? Frightened enough to risk lying to police investigating a triple terror attack…” He broke off briefly. “My last big question, and I stress this is all down to you two and the way you’re driving things, is this. Do we believe that Mark Savage has, for whatever reason, dragged the two women into a complicated deception?”
While this sort of “catch-up session” was sensible in any investigation, what he didn’t add was that he wanted everyone clear about goals and objectives in case he was suddenly pulled out of the fray. He’d been granted a little extra time and he didn’t want to squander a minute. He already knew how brilliant Roper could be and suspected Brooker was very similar, but clear signposting could make the difference between success and failure.
To his relief, neither of them showed any signs of dissent.
Roper chipped in. “If we find the person dealing with Mark Savage, that will point us at the person behind all the attacks. I would add in one extra thing. I would like to know more about Emily Wong’s father. My Rainbow Spectrum is telling me that there is still more about him than we have yet to learn.” He paused. “You know I have an idea that industrial espionage is somehow involved in this. Well, I think that will involve Mr. Wong – and since we now know he has both Communist Party and Triad connections, I am more convinced than ever.”
The DCI gently punched the palm of his left-hand with his right fist. “I won’t pretend that I can follow that, but it’s not the first time you’ve spotted something the rest of us have missed. So good for you.” He looked over at Brooker. “Anything you’d like to add, Susan?”
He couldn’t help thinking that, in many ways, her involvement in a huge case like this was the most remarkable of all. Barely twelve months ago, she’d been working on data collection with a big firm of paralegals. By a stroke of luck, her boss had recognised she was far too skilled at the job and had a mate at the Met who was involved in building up the force’s data management system. Within weeks, she had switched jobs. It wasn’t much longer before Roper’s mystery group knew all about her skills.
Brooker nodded. “I wouldn't mind hearing what Julie Savage has got to say. I think we can leave her brother to stew a little while longer. He's the one who’s been covering things up, so he'll be desperately hoping we aren't onto something.”
Roper, who had been sitting on the edge of his desk, leapt up. “I completely agree. I think she was a bit scared of him. Or… worried that she might say something wrong and he would get cross with her.”
“Sounds like we have a plan,” said Hooley. “We’ll talk to Julie Savage and see where that takes us. Then we need to start thinking about putting the right kind of pressure on her brother.”
As the trio walked into the interview room, Julie Savage jumped to her feet and bobbed up and down. She could not have looked more obviously obsequious and anxious to please.
All three sat down and Hooley jumped straight in.
“Have you allowed Diamonds and Pearls to be used as a front for drug smugglers?”
She was stricken. “Yes, it's true. But we had no choice, they were going to hurt Mark. Actually, they’d already attacked him. They were threatening to do worse. We were terrified.” She covered her face in her hands.
Hooley slammed his hands on the table, so hard that it made his pen bounce up in the air. On the other side of the table, Julie Savage sat up, startled.
“You can spare us the water works,” said Hooley, looking as angry as Roper had ever seen him. “You have the nerve to sit there feeling sorry for yourself when what you were doing allowed drug dealers to hide their profits.” He jabbed his finger at her in emphasis. “It’s not just about the drugs anymore. They traffic human beings. A young woman like you would've been a top target. So, are you seriously going to tell me, that you had no idea what was going on?” He glared at her, his eyes narrowing. “And before you try to insist that you didn’t, let me assure you that claiming ignorance is absolutely no protection under the law.” Hooley guessed she was close to cracking. “I’m going to give you one chance and that one chance is now. We need to know everything. That’s the only way you're going to get anything out of this mess.” He stood up. “You’ve got five minutes to decide your future.” He headed for the door, followed by the other two.
Outside, he turned to Roper and Brooker. “Why don't you two take charge of the interrogation while I watch from the observation room? Now I’ve roughed her up, it might be best if I wasn’t there. But she’s ready to talk.”
Roper and Brooker nodded, but Hooley wasn’t finished yet.
“Jonathan�
��s got quite a bit of experience now so let him have the lead – but Susan, you’ve already proved you’re a shrewd observer so if you think something important needs pursuing then dive in.”
He knew he was putting a lot on them but, even as he’d been talking, his doubts had diminished. They were clever, resourceful and what they lacked in experience was balanced by determination. It was also vital they got used to working without him, just in case he couldn’t be around.
Inside the interview room, things were about to hot up. Roper was determined to get to the truth.
“We know you’re not telling us something. You think you’ve been clever hiding it but I’m afraid you haven’t done a very good job.”
He hadn’t even sat down when he flung the comments at her. She rocked back in her chair, looking stricken. Hooley, who had only just made it to the observation room in time to watch, was impressed. He willed Roper to succeed.
Julie Savage made an attempt at recovery. “I honestly don’t know what you mean. I’ve told you everything that I know. I’m not lying about anything.”
With her eyes rimmed red, and her face tight with anxiety, she looked a picture of misery. For the first time, Brooker noticed what big eyes she had and right now they were looking at Roper imploringly. She hid a smile as she realised he hadn’t noticed.
“Is that really true? Even now, with all that’s at stake here, are you seriously trying to pretend you don't have any idea what I'm talking about?”
The blood had drained from her face, leaving her looking pale to the point of illness. She raised a hand to her face to rub at her cheek and Brooker could see that she was trembling.
Roper was not willing to show a trace of mercy. There wasn’t enough time. They needed answers.
He rapped his knuckles on the table.
“Look at me, look directly at me.” He waited until her fearful gaze had locked onto his. “I can be your best friend, or your worst enemy. But you need to decide right here, right now.”
Just Kill Them Page 16
