The manager shrugged apologetically at Geraldine as if to say he would like to invite her to take a seat but it just wasn’t possible. With a shrug of her own, she carefully removed a pile of papers from one of the chairs and placed it on the floor before sitting down. The manager cleared the other chair, and sat down facing her.
‘You wanted to ask me about Vanessa Slattery?’ he said.
‘You said that didn’t surprise you. Why was that?’
‘I’m not sure I feel comfortable breaking a confidence.’
‘If it helps you decide whether to withhold information from me, I am very sorry to tell you that Vanessa is dead.’
‘Dead?’
The manager looked genuinely startled. He stared at Geraldine, his top lip working as he cast around for a suitable response, while his moustache jiggled comically. In a low voice he asked what had happened.
‘How well did you know Vanessa?’ Geraldine replied to his question with one of her own.
‘We worked together. She was here for about two years, but I can’t say we knew one another well. We shared an interest in gemstones. Our collection is quite lovely, as you no doubt noticed as you crossed the shop floor. How did she die?’
‘Why did she leave her job here?’
The manager heaved a sigh. ‘It didn’t work out,’ he said, looking at the floor and avoiding Geraldine’s gaze.
‘In what way did it not work out? I don’t want to press you but I really do need to know exactly what happened here.’
‘Oh, very well, she was accused– that is, I suspected…’
‘Was she stealing money or jewellery?’
‘Yes, no, that is, I don’t know. Nothing was ever proved. I mean, it was, she confessed, but she paid it all back and left. We agreed to let her go quietly.’
‘What about a reference?’
‘That was difficult. In the end, I wrote that she was hard working and pleasant, but incompetent with money.’
‘Incompetent?’
‘Yes, I wanted to warn any future employer that she couldn’t be trusted around money. If I’d said she was stealing, she would never have got another job. And she only stole because she needed to pay for her sick mother’s care,’ he added. ‘What other choice did I have, really?’
Geraldine didn’t tell him that Vanessa’s mother had died around twenty-five years before she started working at the jeweller’s shop. Clearly she had taken the money to fund her gambling habit. The truth was even sadder than the manager had believed.
‘Do you know if she was in a relationship?’
‘A relationship?’
‘Was she living with anyone while she worked here?’
‘Oh yes, she lived with her mother.’
‘And did she have a boyfriend?’
‘I really have no idea. We didn’t discuss such matters,’ he said, as though it was somehow distasteful for anyone to talk about personal matters with their colleagues at work.
‘Was the young girl in the shop working here with Vanessa?’
‘No, she replaced Vanessa. There are only two of us employed here at any one time. We’re a small shop and we have to keep overheads down.’
With a sigh, Geraldine stood up to leave. There was nothing more to learn from the manager who had worked with Vanessa for two years without knowing anything about her that was true, apart from the fact that she was a thief.
40
With Tod’s threat ringing in his ears, Ian hurried out of the office. The situation had developed so rapidly, he had lost control almost before he realised what was happening, and he felt helpless to stop his own inexorable descent into wrongdoing. As a police officer, he of all people should have known better. Having seized the opportunity to land Frank in trouble with Tod, he was shaken by compunction. There was no denying he had as good as signed Frank’s death warrant. Admittedly, Frank was a vicious thug and a bully, a psychopath who was doubtless responsible for multiple injuries and ‘accidents’. All the same, as a police officer, Ian’s duty was to investigate and gather evidence against him so that Frank could be called to account for his crimes in a court of law. It was not for Ian to effectively order a criminal’s unofficial execution, but he was trapped in a horrendous situation of his own making and couldn’t see a way out.
Ian couldn’t refuse to follow Tod’s instructions without arousing his suspicions. Given that Ian was double-crossing his new boss, that was a dangerous path to follow. Not only that, but if he failed to gain Tod’s trust, he would be letting Jack down. It might be a long time before another police officer managed to get as close to Tod as swiftly and effectively as Ian had done. But the course of action Ian now seemed destined to pursue was almost certain to end another man’s life. Even taking into account that Frank was a violent criminal, causing his death went against everything Ian believed in. He had spent his life pursuing killers and seeing them brought to justice. Now he was actually considering setting up just such an unlawful killing himself. Not for the first time, he wished he could discuss his dilemma with Geraldine. He had never felt more alone.
Leaving the office, he found Frank standing guard at the entrance to the club. Ian took up his position ready to check customers’ bags as they came in. It was a token inspection. People could easily smuggle drugs on to the premises concealed in their clothes, and everyone was aware they were simply going through the motions. No sooner had Ian taken his place than Jenny turned up and came over to stand close to him.
‘I’ll see you tonight,’ she whispered, putting her arms round his neck. ‘Watch out for Frank.’
Ian tensed, wondering how Jenny knew he was going after Frank.
‘He’s been pursuing me for months,’ she added.
Ian sighed. That was a further complication he could manage without, but at least Frank wasn’t aware that Ian was about to tell Tod that Frank was a police informer. Peering over Jenny’s shoulder, he saw Frank scowling at him and lowered his eyes. Jenny walked off and Ian resumed his post. All this time Frank remained standing by the door, glowering at Ian. Visibly shifting his weight from one foot to another, he appeared to be considering launching himself at Ian. All at once, he strode across the hall and leaned down until he was close enough for Ian to feel warm breath on his neck.
‘I know all about you,’ Frank murmured hoarsely.
With an effort, Ian held his ground and glared back at his antagonist.
‘I’ve no idea what you’re on about,’ he snarled, ‘so you can fuck off with your empty threats. You think you scare me?’
‘I know what you’re trying to do,’ Frank went on, his cheeks flushed with anger, ‘trying to weasel your way in here. Well, the boss might trust you but I don’t and I’m going to have you out of here before you see what’s coming. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll piss off right now and never come back. You’re not wanted here. No one wants you.’
‘Tallulah does,’ Ian replied smartly.
Despite his relief at realising Frank didn’t appear to know anything about him, he was wary. Frank was burning with resentment.
Frank clenched both his fists. ‘You keep your filthy hands off her,’ he growled.
A couple of youths entered the club and Frank turned away to check them out. Ian joined in, patting men’s pockets and glancing inside girls’ bags in a desultory search for weapons and drugs. While he worked, he was thinking. He had been afraid that Frank had tumbled to his true identity. The truth was far more obvious and in some ways more worrying than that. Frank hadn’t been tailing Ian at all, he had been stalking Jenny. She claimed she could take care of herself, but Ian didn’t know if she was aware of the intensity of Frank’s interest in her. As soon as he could, he would have to warn her. In the meantime, Frank’s message had crystallised Ian’s decision to act. At the first opportunity, he took a break and made his way straight to Tod’s office.
‘Frank?’ Tod repeated, scowling. ‘I don’t believe it.’
He seemed so shocked, Ian was afraid the accusation would be dismissed.
‘Are you sure?’ Tod asked.
‘I’m afraid so. The evidence is irrefutable.’
‘Evidence? What evidence?’
Ian couldn’t afford to be seen to hesitate. ‘DNA. I got hold of a sample of Frank’s DNA and sent it off to be analysed.’ He spoke as confidently as he could. ‘My colleague just sent me a message confirming Frank’s DNA matches the informant’s. There’s no doubt. Frank’s the one. He’s been feeding information to the police for months. But he’s been cunning. There’s no way you could have tumbled to it without inside information. You’re lucky you’ve got me working for you, or you might never have found out.’
To make the accusation sound plausible, Ian made out he was exposing Frank in order to curry favour with Tod.
‘I had to tell you, Boss.’
Ian tensed. He had to act fast to get Frank arrested and locked up before Tod had him killed.
‘What are you going to do, Boss? Do you want me to take him out?’ he asked. ‘You can leave him to me. I got rid of Nick for you, didn’t I? I know how to work it so no one can trace it back to you.’
‘No, you’ve done enough.’ Tod’s eyes narrowed. ‘Leave him to me. Send him in. I want to talk to him.’ Tod’s hand moved towards his top drawer.
‘But Boss–’
‘I said, send him to me. Now!’
Ian hurried from the office, his thoughts whirling. Somehow he had to warn Frank of Tod’s intentions, without revealing his own part in the affair. But Frank was not in the entry hall. Ian hurried back inside, looking for Jenny. He saw her behind the bar, flirting with a punter.
‘Tallulah, I need to speak to you right now,’ he hissed at her.
She blew the customer a kiss. ‘Laters, babe. What is it?’ she asked, turning to Ian.
‘Where’s Frank?’
‘How should I know?’
‘Listen, he’s after you–’
‘After me?’ she giggled. ‘What for? Have I been a naughty girl?’
‘Stop it, Jenny, this is serious. He’s got designs on you and he’s trying to warn me off and get me out of the way. So I’ve told Tod Frank’s a snitch.’
‘What? Frank? Are you nuts? He’s devoted to Tod. He’s been working for him for years. Tod’s never going to swallow that.’
‘Well, he did,’ Ian replied, irked by her distrust. ‘I convinced him. But now Frank’s gone missing.’
‘I’m not surprised,’ she replied, looking worried. ‘Tod isn’t one to hang around and wait for a fair hearing. If he believed your story, chances are Frank’s already a dead man. But if Frank’s still alive, and gets wind of your story, your luck’s run out. You’d best watch your back, Archie. Frank will snap you like a twig with his bare hands. And if Tod ever discovers you were spinning him a line, he’ll put a bullet in your guts and leave you to bleed to death.’
Ian forced a grin. ‘What’s a nice girl like you doing in such charming company?’ he muttered.
41
Thomas had always liked to keep up with the news in general, but lately he had only been interested in what was happening in York. He had taken to buying any local papers he could find on his way to work, scanning through them at lunchtime, and checking obsessively online in case there was any mention of the prostitute he had accidentally killed. It didn’t take long for the media to seize on the story, and he read several articles with satisfaction, because they indicated the police didn’t have a clue who was responsible for killing the woman. All the while his relief was tinged with fear, because it was clear that the police were throwing huge resources into looking for him.
Several newspapers reported the local police had drafted in officers from other areas to help them with the search. He wondered how many of them were working on trying to track him down. Some of the accounts in the media were more dramatic than others. They ranged from a one-line announcement that a woman’s body had been discovered in York, to a full-blown article on the front page of a local paper. It was somewhat histrionic and would have been quite worrying had most of the information not been fabricated. The more far-fetched the journalists’ claims were, the safer he felt, and it was reassuring that even the most detailed article revealed that the police didn’t seem to know anything at all. How could they, he reasoned, when he had left no trace of himself behind. Alone in the living room, he read carefully through the longest report.
A woman has been brutally murdered in York. The mutilated corpse of Pansy Banks, a glamorous twenty-five-year-old exotic dancer and escort was discovered in Acomb Wood, where her body had been dumped. Local resident, fifty-one-year-old Yvonne Miles, who stumbled on the body, said, ‘It was horrendous. I’ve lived in York all my life and I’ve never seen anything like it.’
The victim leaves behind a young daughter and son, who are now both orphans. The victim’s mother, who has been looking after the children, was too upset to speak to us.
The police are working around the clock to find whoever is responsible for this vicious attack. Police officers have been drafted in from the surrounding areas to help with the enquiry and a massive investigation is under way, although so far there has been no arrest.
Anyone who has any information concerning this violent murder is urged to contact the local police without delay.
As he finished the article, Emily came in. Thomas closed his paper with a guilty start, before she could see what he was reading.
‘What’s that?’ she asked.
‘Nothing,’ he replied, shoving the paper aside. ‘Just glancing through the local news to see what’s going on in the world.’ He smiled at her.
‘Anything interesting?’
‘No. Nothing much. Just the usual garbage.’
‘Well, you’re wrong, because there is something,’ she replied, sitting down beside him on the sofa and half turning in her seat to look at him. Her expression was solemn, but her blue eyes were animated. ‘There’s been a murder, right here in York.’
‘Oh yes, I saw that,’ he replied, lowering his gaze. ‘No need to worry. The police always catch murderers, don’t they? It says in the paper they’ve got whole teams of officers working on it. I’m sure they have it under control.’
‘Under control? If you ask me, they don’t seem to know anything and they don’t seem to be doing anything at all to find out who’s responsible. The body was found right here in York, in Acomb Wood.’
Thomas raised his eyebrows in fake alarm. ‘Really? In Acomb Wood? I missed that. Bloody hell, that’s a bit too close for comfort. Emily, I don’t want you going out alone until they’ve found this maniac and put him behind bars.’
‘I hardly think there’s any need to be so melodramatic,’ she replied, but she didn’t sound very sure of herself. ‘I’m hardly going to put myself at risk.’
‘Listen,’ he said forcefully, ‘if there’s a killer out there targeting women, I don’t want you putting yourself at risk. I mean it. You can go out if you take the car, but you’re absolutely not to go out otherwise.’
She laughed. ‘Don’t be silly, Thomas. Of course I’ll be careful. And it’s hardly like there’s a serial killer out there targeting women, just because one woman got herself killed. She was asking for trouble.’
Thomas frowned. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Oh, I’m not victim blaming, nothing like that, but the fact is the victim was a sex worker who got into a car with a stranger. I’m hardly likely to get into a stranger’s car, am I?’
‘Who told you she was a sex worker?’ he asked.
He felt a flicker of fear in case someone had seen him picking up the prostitute in the street. It wasn’t the first time the possibility had occurred to him.
&n
bsp; ‘And how do you know she got into a stranger’s car?’
‘Everyone knows that. It’s all over the internet. Everyone’s talking about it and everyone says she was a sex worker.’
‘Just because everyone’s saying it doesn’t mean it’s true.’
‘Well, everyone I’ve spoken to says she used to solicit on the street, even though it’s illegal. She did it to support her drug habit.’
‘That’s just ridiculous gossip. If she was picked up on the street, no one else would know about it.’
Emily looked at him curiously. ‘What do you mean?’
‘It just doesn’t make sense, that’s all.’
‘What doesn’t?’
‘All this stuff about people speculating about how she got into a stranger’s car. Murders are usually committed by someone who knows the victim.’
‘That’s true.’
‘Anyway, I don’t want you going out on your own until this is over.’
‘Now who’s being ridiculous? The girls at the book club all think there’s a predator targeting sex workers and killing them. No one seems to know anything for certain, but it stands to reason she was killed by one of her customers.’
Thomas wondered how far to push his pretence of concern. Of course Emily was in no danger at all from the man who had killed the prostitute, but no one knew that apart from him. He had to do his best to behave as though he was as ignorant of the killer’s identity as everyone else. He wondered how he would have reacted to the situation had he not known for certain that Emily was safe. Whatever happened, it was essential that he appear innocent and behave as though he knew nothing about the woman’s death, other than what he could read in the paper.
Deep Cover Page 19
