Uncoiled Lies: a stunning crime thriller

by Liz Mistry

  ‘Right, settle down folks,’ shouted Gus above the chatter. He reeled off a series of instructions to the uniformed officers and sent them on their way before speaking to his team. ‘I’ll do a quick review of what we’ve got so far, then open it up for comments, but before that I’d like to introduce our new member. DC Tim Brighton.’ He gestured one by one round the table, ‘DI Sadia Hussain, DS Alice Cooper and DC John Sampson.’

  Gus took a swig from his Wee Bru before continuing. ‘For DC Brighton, who’s new to the team, I’ll just clarify a few things. First of all, you are lucky to be here. We are the first of this type of unit in the country. After our success in nailing The Matchmaker, the powers that be decided our team’s diverse skills are “cutting edge”.’

  He had heard from Sadia about Brighton’s behaviour the previous evening and he was determined to be clear, without giving him a rollicking on his first day, that a repeat performance would not be acceptable. He hadn’t been allowed the privilege of selecting this new recruit and, though Gus had made his irritation known, DCS Hussain had proved inflexible on this count. Gus knew the DCS, not his biggest fan, was waiting for him to mess up. Gus had decided to give Brighton the benefit of the doubt for now. He’d worked with racists and sexists before and knew that sometimes, despite their obvious personality defects, they had skills that he could use. Hopefully, Brighton was the same – otherwise he’d be out on his arse, DCS Hussain or no DCS Hussain. Gus looked directly at Brighton.

  ‘Our MIT works under the CID umbrella and specifically tackles crimes like this one. This allows the Anti-terrorist and Vice units to continue their specialism, whilst sharing and pooling information that is of relevance to each. In other words, we are a streamlined unit with, so far, a proven track record of speedy, accurate results. To be blunt, we work our balls off, we work as a team and we get the job done. Any questions?’

  Brighton cast a glance at Sadia. Gus noted with a smile that she ignored him. He continued. ‘I work on the basis that each team member’s input, regardless of their rank, is of equal importance. That means that on any investigation you will all be proactive. I don’t want just paper-pushing sheep. I want you all thinking, putting in your opinion. Yes, some of us have more experience than others, but that doesn’t mean we don’t all still have something to learn.’

  Gus rested one buttock on his desk. ‘If you have a thought, no matter how vague or weird or embarrassing, let’s hear it, because sometimes the smallest, weirdest things can be what sets an investigation off in the right direction. I want you all thinking. The DCs on my team don’t only do the plod work, they input the investigation any way they can, okay?’

  Brighton nodded, leaning forward on the table, notebook at the ready as Gus moved on. ‘Right, we’ve had three victims in the space of a week and so far nothing concrete to go on. When we interviewed the working girls last week they said bugger all, as did their pimps. I’m hoping this last murder will have loosened their tongues a bit.’

  Gus paused and looked at his team. ‘I want this fucker caught before he kills again, okay?’

  A low mumble of agreement spread round the table.

  ‘Okay, let’s recap.’ Gus walked over to the first whiteboard and touched the corner of one of the photos that hung there. ‘This is victim number one. Camilla Grant, aged twenty-two years, known prostitute, working for Shahid Khan.’

  Gus tapped the photo sharply with his knuckles causing everyone to jump. ‘Look at her.’

  All eyes were drawn to Camilla, who smiled shyly into the camera. She looked like any other twenty-two-year-old girl, thought Gus.

  ‘Camilla was found last Friday, in Bradford Moor Park by two males taking a shortcut through the park to Killinghall Road after closing time. Cause of death was strangulation by what was later identified as her own belt. However, pre-mortem the bastard savagely and repeatedly rammed a wine bottle, broken at the neck, into her vagina, causing multiple lacerations and severe blood loss. The wine bottle is, unfortunately, available in most supermarkets. There was no semen and no prints.’

  ‘Sick bastard,’ said Alice.

  ‘Yeah, this one is a real sicko,’ said Gus. ‘Now, moving on. This is Starlight.’ He glanced round and saw that the team were focussing intently on the photo of the brown skinned beauty with the wide grin and flirtatious eyes.

  ‘The bastard got Starlight on Monday. Again, in Bradford Moor Park. Again, she was one of Shahid Khan’s. Nineteen years old, mother of a five-year-old boy.’

  He paused to take another swig from his Bru bottle and his cheek muscles contracted as he considered his next words. ‘Starlight was discovered by a 7-year-old girl on her way to school with her older brother. She’d chased her ball into the bushes and stumbled on the body. Her mum tells me she has nightmares and has started to wet the bed. She won’t talk about it to anyone and has become withdrawn and uncommunicative. Just another one of the unacknowledged victims.’

  He allowed his words to sink in before continuing. ‘Starlight was strangled with her tights. Again, pre-mortem a broken wine bottle, bearing the same brand name was repeatedly and violently thrust into her vagina.’

  Gus shoved his hand in his pocket and moved along to the final board. ‘Meet victim three, Trixie (surname unknown) aged around eighteen, probably a runaway according to her flatmate. I’ve only got the crime scene photo so far,’ said Gus. The close-up photo of Trixie with her eyes bulging and her hair splayed behind her like a mane of mucky straw, contrasted sharply with the happy vibe of the other photos.

  ‘Bloody hell!’ said DC Sampson drawing everyone’s eyes towards him in surprise. He flushed and took a sip of coffee to cover his embarrassment. Alice caught his eye and winked at him, which, unfortunately, rather than reassuring him, made him flush deeper.

  ‘Trixie was found at approximately 9pm last night, in the Lilycroft allotments. She was found by her best friend and flatmate, Jessica Green. Trixie was a known prostitute working for Bazza Green. Again, cause of death appears to be strangulation by, possibly, her own scarf. Same or similar MO. For more details, we need to wait for the PM, which I will attend.’

  DC Sampson coughed and fidgeted on his chair. ‘I was wondering, sir, if maybe we’re looking at a sort of prostitute turf war?’

  Gus smiled at the young DC, but, before he could comment, he heard a snort from the other side of the table. Gus turned and looked at Brighton. ‘Yes?’

  Brighton stretched his arms out in front of him palm upwards. ‘Well, that’s a pretty basic question isn’t it?’ he said, smirking at Sampson.

  Gus jumped to his feet and, eyes sparking, he pierced Brighton with a look. ‘I don’t care how you managed to wangle your way onto this team, but you need to learn pretty damn quick that I don’t tolerate petty point scoring. Everyone is entitled to voice their thoughts without being ridiculed. I don’t have time for arses who want to disrupt team dynamics. We’ve got too serious a job on for that so, let me issue this warning, loud and clear. You do that once more, Brighton and you’re out. Nobody, I repeat nobody, stays here if they’re not a team player. Got it?’

  Brighton flushed and sent a glance round the table. Talking a deep breath, he nodded once. ‘Look, that probably came out wrong. All I’m trying to say is that it’s obviously a sicko prossie serial killer. After all, this one is the third one isn’t she? And we all know that three kills equal a serial killer.’

  Gus raised an eyebrow. ‘At this point, how can you be sure? It could equally be just what Sampson suggested – a turf war. We rule nothing out until we’ve investigated it and found it doesn’t stand up.’

  He turned to Sampson, whose face was as bright as a beetroot. ‘That was a valid point, John. Now, what are the pros and cons for either the “serial killer” or the “turf war” theory?’

  Alice smiled at Sampson and said, ‘Word on the street is that there’s a lot of competition for territory at the moment. Apparently, some of the new Eastern European immigrants look like they’re tr
ying to stake a claim. With the job market being what it is some of them are desperate and, according to Vice, more of the women they’re picking up are Polish or Romanian and they don’t seem to be from either Khan or Green’s stables. Interpol reckon some of their more lucrative known criminals have snuck into the UK with the sole intention of cashing in on drugs, weapons and prostitution.’

  She rubbed her nose with her hand. ‘Then, of course, there’s our own homegrown criminals. Colin “The Cockroach” Roache, from Sheffield’s been sighted snooping around and so has Mac Harrison from Glasgow and Johnnie “The Gerbil” Butler from Oldham.’ She waved a sheet of paper in the air and continued. ‘Vice say they’re looking mainly at the drug market so far, but that doesn’t mean they won’t venture into prostitution and firearms if they can frighten off Bazza or Khan.’

  Gus nodded. ‘So we may be looking at a turf war after all. Any thoughts on the serial killer angle?’

  Again, Alice spoke. ‘All the reports from the women indicate that they’ve not had any dodgy punters. It would be unusual for a serial killer targeting prostitutes to strike three times without leaving some sort of marker… You know, being too rough or asking for kinky stuff outside the girls’ comfort zones or the like. Although the MO’s and victims match in each of the three incidents, it seems like we’ve got nothing to go on in that respect. Unless of course he’s operating outside Bradford but hunting inside Bradford.’

  ‘That’s something we need to follow up on, anyway. I’ll get Compo to check out similar crimes outside the district when he gets back from court. Any other thoughts?’ When everyone shook their heads, Gus continued. ‘Right then, Alice, you and Sampson interview Khan and Green. Get statements from the working girls from both sides.’ He grinned. ‘That’ll be an initiation for Sampson.’

  Alice laughed and banged Sampson on the shoulder, ‘Oh, you’re in for a treat today. I’ll be introducing you to aspects of Bradford you’ve never imagined, not even in your wildest dreams.’

  Gus winked at Sampson and then addressed Brighton. ‘Contact Missing Persons to see if we can identify Trixie and her family and I want you updating the files. Go through every statement and correlate anything interesting. After we’ve been to the PM, Sadia and I will interview Jessica Green, see what we can get from her about her uncle and her friend Trixie. Also, to keep everyone up to speed, Jessica is Shahid Khan’s half-sister and there is no love lost between them. Worth bearing in mind in case it somehow plays into the investigation.’

  After Sadia had updated them on the Bazza Green–Jessica–Shahid Khan triangle, Gus wound up the briefing. ‘Right any other thoughts?’

  Brighton raised a hand, ‘Just still thinking about the serial killer thing. It would be difficult to subdue a girl, remove her clothing and force her to stay still while he violated her. I’m thinking maybe there was a second guy to hold her down.’

  Gus nodded, but it was Sampson who responded. ‘If there were two perps then I think that supports the turf war theory more than the serial killer one.’ Taking a deep breath and, ignoring Brighton’s frown, Sampson continued. ‘Research shows that, although not unknown, it is much less likely for a serial killer to have a partner.’

  Sadia glanced at Sampson. ‘Actually, you’re perfectly right, John.’ She turned to Brighton, her expression neutral. ‘I can see your point too, Tim, but both girls’ tox screens came back with an alcoholic and ketamine level way off the scale. They were so out of it they probably couldn’t have put up a lot of resistance. However, if there were two perpetrators it would make it easier. Worth bearing in mind, anyway. I’ll add it to the board.’

  ‘What about the door-to-doors?’ asked Alice.

  ‘Brighton will liaise with them. A phone line has been set up for information so I want you to be responsible for weeding out anything noteworthy from that, too. Meet back here at 1pm for pizza and feedback.’

  07:45 The Fort

  Alice glanced over at Gus and Sadia huddled in front of the crime boards and felt a pang. When Gus threw back his head, sending his dreads bouncing as he laughed at something Sadia had said, Alice knew her pang had been a combination of jealousy and anger. Since she’d joined the MIT with Gus, she’d been his right-hand person. Now it seemed like Sadia was slowly ousting her and that, combined with her suspicions from the previous night, sat heavy in her chest. She felt side-lined and confused. The cold light of day had made her question her doubts about Gus. Surely, he wouldn’t be so duplicitous as to keep tabs on her for DCS Hussain.

  What was really bothering her right now, though, was the fact that Gus had elected to take Sadia to interview Jessica. Okay, Sadia knew the girl and had taken her preliminary statement, but Alice had interviewed the other witnesses and she thought she’d done a good job. For continuity’s sake, she felt she should be the one to interview Jessica. Deep down she knew she was being unreasonable and that Gus was perfectly justified in his decision, but somehow, she just couldn’t let it go. She hated this feeling and yet, at the same time, she knew she had to do something about it.

  Reflected in the large window she saw her multiple ear piercings glistening under the overhead lights as she turned to Sampson. She lifted her hand and touched each one with her fingertip in an attempt to calm herself down saying in a mock cowboy accent, ‘Head outside, partner, I’ll catch you up in a minute.’

  She watched Sampson walk from the room, noting how he avoided looking at Brighton who swaggered behind him, whistling under his breath. Alice waited till they’d left before approaching Gus. ‘I interviewed all the key witnesses in the previous two murders so I think I should be the one to interview Jessica, too.’

  ‘Hmm,’ said Gus, scratching his head, as he read through the notes on the boards. ‘What did you say?’

  ‘I want to interview Jessica Green, Gus.’ Her tone came out sharper than she intended and she cursed herself.

  Gus glanced up and as he observed her, the smile faded from his lips.

  Alice knew that she looked pissed off, standing legs apart, hands on hips and her chin stuck out at a pugnacious angle, but it was too late to change her stance.

  Gus frowned. ‘What’s up with you, Al? You and Sampson have enough to do as it is. Surely you’re not fighting for extra work?’

  Sadia walked over, smiling, making Alice want to slap her superior-looking face. Keeping her eyes on Gus she ignored Sadia when she spoke. ‘I took Jess’ preliminary statement last night. I know her and her history. I’ve already got a connection with her.’ And she reached out and touched Alice’s arm.

  Alice pulled away. ‘I wasn’t asking you, Sadia. I was speaking to Gus.’

  Gus looked at the two women and then, his tone puzzled said, ‘Have I missed something?’

  Sadia put her pen down and shrugged as Alice threw a glance in the other girl’s direction. ‘I should be the one to take her statement.’ Even to her own ears, she sounded churlish. She felt a wave of heat spread up her face as Gus’ blue eyes darkened until it was difficult to distinguish the blue of his iris, from the black circle that surrounded it. A sure sign he was pissed off.

  ‘For God’s sake, we’ve got, at worst, a serial killer at large and, at best, a turf war between two rival gangs and you’re questioning my decisions. What the fuck’s wrong with you?’

  Alice swallowed and then straightened her back. ‘I feel I’m being side-lined. Maybe my abilities are in question?’

  Gus stuck his pen into his dreads. Alice knew from his expression that he was completely flabbergasted. ‘What? You think I’m excluding you? Where the hell’s that come from?’

  Feeling slightly foolish but not wanting to back down, Alice lifted her small chin ‘Well, are you?’

  Gus sighed. ‘I don’t know what you’re on about, Al. I really don’t, and I don’t have time for this.’

  Having come this far Alice was determined not to let it go now. ‘Is it because of Brent? Because the inquiry’s findings will be published soon?’

 
Gus’ face cleared. ‘Aw for God’s sake, Al. You’re in Bradford now. You know you’ll be exonerated, so stop dwelling on it.’ He walked over to her and placing his hands on her shoulder, he gave them a gentle shake. ‘I trust you completely.’

  Alice bit her lip. She’d seen the way Sadia rolled her eyes and wanted to slap her but, maybe now wasn’t the time. Vowing to keep an eye on the other woman, Alice shrugged, feeling like she’d made a complete tit of herself. ‘As long as you do.’

  Gus glanced from Alice to Sadia and shook his head, ‘God, you two are high maintenance.’

  07:20 Thornbury

  Serafina stretched. allowing the ebb and flow of the household wakening up to cocoon her. She supposed she was lucky. Her father had lost his job in Poland and they’d been forced to move to Bradford. It had been a real come-down for the entire family and money was tight. Their home in Poland had been palatial in comparison to this little three-bedroomed terraced house but Serafina was beginning to settle now. She’d made friends, she liked her school, and being the only girl in a family of three boys meant that she had her own room and she savoured it. Okay, it was only a tiny box room with a single bed and small wardrobe squeezed in and hardly enough room for her to move around when she was standing, but it was all hers and it provided her with a place to study, away from the boisterous teasing of her siblings. Not that she minded their teasing. It was all part of family life and most of the time she enjoyed it.

  From downstairs her mum’s gentle scolding tones drifted into her room and Serafina smiled, visualising her oldest brother, Jacob, who was always first up, standing shamefaced among the remnants of his breakfast. Her tiny mother, just back from her cleaning job at Barkerend Primary School, would be standing, hands on hips glaring up at her brother. This routine happened every morning. She could hear Jacob’s deeper tones now apologising in Polish and she knew he’d be swiftly gathering up his dishes, plonking mum in a chair and switching the kettle on ready to make her a well-deserved cup of tea.