* * *
After twenty-one hours in a cell in Dover, Danny Stanton, accompanied by a legal aid lawyer, admitted that he was a regular conduit between Manchester and Barrow for Tony Blackman. The Revelin Moss car park was a frequent rendezvous point, and the night of Faith’s death, he said, he was merely there to drop off a load of drugs to Luke Miles, but that they’d partied and ended up taking a quantity of cocaine. The last thing he’d seen after he’d dropped off the packages and decided to leave his car in the carpark, was Luke and a bunch of kids driving away, and Bobby cornering the girl.
He was asked why he hadn’t intervened, given his knowledge of Bobby’s character, as well as Faith’s vulnerability. His reply was that it was none of his business, and that news broke Kelly’s heart. She’d seen enough pictures of Bobby Bailey to know that he’d been physically wasting away. Danny Stanton, on the other hand, was a healthy, strapping young man who could easily have stopped the attack. But as usual in these cases, he was saving his own skin. Still, she knew that Stanton would have a hard time convincing a jury that he’d merely walked away and not participated in the attack. His DNA was taken and sent to the lab.
He was also asked about his contact in Manchester. He was only able to tell them that it was some guy who didn’t speak very good English, but he positively ID’d Nedzad Galic. It was enough to go after him, and Kelly informed the Manchester drug squad.
* * *
The atmosphere at Eden House was tense, and Kelly had to remind herself to be patient. Several moving parts were in action at once, and it felt like they were nearly there. The incident room was hushed, the only noises those of furiously tapping keyboards, ringing phones, and the odd word. Her team wheeled their chairs between desks to swap and compare information. Out on the streets, Blackman was being hunted, the trap was closing around Nedzad, and Bobby Bailey was cremated at public expense because no one claimed his body.
Kelly took a call from the reception desk downstairs and was puzzled by what she heard. She left her seat and jogged into the incident room.
‘Kate, come with me. Sarah Peaks has just walked into the station.’
Kate grabbed her phone and radio and they both went to the stairs. It was quicker than waiting for the lift, and their adrenalin was pumping, urging them to move. When they saw Sarah, they both loosely framed a likely picture in their minds of what might have gone on. Sarah held a bundle of tissues to her eye. Her hands were shaking and she was having trouble getting her words to come out correctly. Seeing Kelly only made her worse, and she began babbling. Blackman’s name was mentioned, and she kept saying that he’d tried to kill her. Their priority was to calm her down.
‘Come on, Sarah, let’s go and sit down,’ Kelly soothed. She nodded at the officer at the front desk, and they were buzzed through into the corridor where the interview rooms were situated. Sarah was still breathless and desperately scared. As they escorted her, Kelly saw that she was missing two fingernails, her ear was bloody and an angry dark red bruise was swelling around her eye.
They went into the room and Sarah sat down. She appeared to be more composed and took a few deep breaths.
‘You’re safe now,’ Kelly said.
Sarah nodded and accepted water from Kate.
‘What happened?’ Kelly asked.
Sarah’s face crumpled and she held the tissues to her eyes again, wincing as she touched the bruised one.
‘I saw him with … a woman. She used to teach at the school. She’s called Amanda. I knew they’d had a thing, but he was with her.’ Sarah peered between Kelly and Kate. ‘He was kissing her.’
This event was evidently hugely important and hurtful to Sarah, and Kelly quickly surmised that she and Tony Blackman were more than likely lovers. She glanced at Kate, who opened a pad on the table and began to take notes. Sarah gave them the details of the woman.
‘Where did you see them together?’
‘I didn’t know where he’d gone and I was worried. He’d told me about his other flat, where he went to relax. He kept it quiet because of the trial; it was an old rental property that he bought years ago. I never went there but he told me where it was and I thought I might try it. I thought he might be waiting for me to go there, scared of leaving or something like that.’
‘Do you have the address?’ Kelly asked.
Sarah nodded and gave it to them.
‘Do you think he might still be there?’
‘I don’t know.’
Kelly spoke into her radio and called for a patrol car to proceed to the address, with caution. Sarah’s eyes widened.
‘How did you sustain your injuries?’ Kelly asked her.
‘He was going into the flat with this woman, and I shouted. He looked at me as if …’ Her face crumpled again. She had been truly betrayed, and her pain was real. ‘As if he hated me.’
‘Carry on. Tell us what happened next.’
‘I confronted him about his interview with the police – the one where he was cleared of all the charges – and told him that he knew too much about the computer, and that he was mixing his facts up. His face changed then, and I was scared for the first time. He turned away from me and I screamed at him. I wanted to know what he was doing. I …’
She blew her nose and dabbed her eyes again. Kate pushed a box of tissues towards her.
‘He unlocked his door to go in and then he just grabbed me. It came from nowhere and my head smashed against the door. The pain was so terrible. I don’t know what happened, but I knew that if I didn’t get out of there he was going to really hurt me. I kicked him between the legs and he howled. I ran and ran and ran until I didn’t even know where I was, but I knew he wasn’t behind me.’ Her face softened for the first time, unburdened.
‘He didn’t see that coming, did he?’ Kate said. Sarah managed to smile.
‘Well done. You did an amazing job. The officer at the front desk has called a medic and they’re coming to check you out. Kate and I have to go now, to see if we can find Tony. I’ll call someone in to sit with you, and then we’ll take you home if you don’t need treatment. Those nails look sore.’
Sarah looked down and winced; it was obvious that she hadn’t noticed them before. It often happened in cases of abuse and domestic violence, when adrenaline ran so high that the victim had no idea of the extent of their injuries. ‘You’re safe now,’ Kelly told her.
Chapter 62
Nedzad glanced once more around the flat, then picked up his son and locked the door with the other hand. The boy had been spoiled, and was used to some kind of routine whereby he received regular meals and playtime. It was a disgrace; they had made a girl of him. The child sucked his dummy rhythmically and stared at his father with large sad eyes. Nedzad tutted.
He headed for the car across the street, but checked both ways first. A few vehicles dotted the road, and one in particular caught his attention: it had lingered there too often. He hurried to bundle the boy into his child seat, then leapt in and pulled away, checking frantically in the rear-view mirror until he was clear of the junction. He’d become jumpy. His photograph had re-emerged on social media, as it had done two years ago. He had several methods of disguise, but not for the boy. He’d heard on the radio that police in Cumbria were working on the presumed kidnap of a two-year-old, and that he was wanted for questioning in connection with it. It irked him. He thought that two years with no profile had allowed him to morph into somebody different. He quickly realised that they must have other stuff, and this was confirmed when he heard an update on the case of the missing girl.
They’d found her body in the forest and had a couple of kids in custody; meanwhile, they were actively looking for the teacher. It was enough for Nedzad to calculate that he had less than twenty-four hours to leave the country. But first he was meeting Blackman. There was no longer a job offer, or a promise of a better life, and the friendship had ceased to be of value to Nedzad. But there was a huge problem: Tony Blackman owed him money, and a lot o
f it.
He’d been lenient; he’d spoiled Blackman and he’d turned a blind eye to the girl in the forest, thinking that Bobby’s mistake could easily be covered by his timely death. Not so. He’d toyed with going to Scotland, or simply lying low for a while, but now he had his son to think of, and it wouldn’t be so easy to stay unrecognised. He decided that his best option was to use a courier who regularly ran gear over to the Isle of Man from Workington Port. It was a much longer journey and he wasn’t sure if he could persuade his contact to take him all the way to Ireland: his best, and only, bet at the moment. But with the money Blackman owed him, he might be able to talk him into it.
He noticed that a car had stuck with him all the way to the M6, and his guts began to churn. He headed north and kept checking in his rear-view mirror.
He was heading for the heart of the Lakes. It was a place he’d first come to as a slave, in the back of a lorry, double-crossed and penniless. That had been two years ago, and since then he’d been a busy boy. Guns and knives meant that there were always employment vacancies in the Manchester drug scene. Gone were the days of well-established gangs maintaining top position for decades; now it was transitory, unpredictable and brutal. Nedzad Galic had walked into a vacancy and turned it into a thriving business. Under the noses of the Manchester squad he’d infiltrated Cumbria, and until now, they hadn’t pinned down who he dealt with inside the county. Now, though, that looked to be unravelling. In crime, there was no word of honour when it came to the law. If you were caught, you were alone.
He thought he’d lost the car and smiled to himself. It had probably just been a neighbour heading to the motorway for business, like thousands of others. Nedzad was anonymous, and he’d worked hard to keep it that way. His nerves stilled and he settled into the drive. He was already halfway to the turn-off for the Lakes. His son murmured in the back of the car, waking from his nap. Nedzad had decided to name him Daris, which in Persian meant ‘the valuable one’.
The winter sky was clear and blue, and the sun shone into his eyes as he drove. He listened to the radio to quieten the doubts in his head. It had been so much easier on his own; he could disappear and reappear whenever he wanted. This new responsibility was surprisingly hard work, and it meant changing the way he operated. Eventually he’d have to find himself a woman to look after the boy, but right now there was no time for romancing; too much was at stake.
He tried Blackman’s numbers again, and one of them worked.
‘Where are you?’ he barked into the phone.
Blackman told him. ‘But not for long. I need to leave.’
‘You and me both, brother. I have an idea,’ Nedzad lied. ‘Wait until I get there. I’m twenty minutes away.’
‘I can’t hold on longer than that. I’m out of here.’
‘Wait a minute, my friend. Where is my money?’
‘I have it safely stored. It’s not here.’
‘We will go together. Wait for me.’ He hung up. Daris had begun to sing, and Nedzad smiled warmly at him in the mirror. As he turned off the motorway, his heart raced and he had to concentrate to negotiate the traffic on the outskirts of Penrith before heading to the address Tony had given him, in Keswick.
* * *
There was no way on earth that Tony Blackman was hanging around for Nedzad Galic. The guy was a liability, and besides, he needed the cash. He had to admit that technically it belonged to Nedzad, but in this game, accounts weren’t kept. There had once been genuine trust between the two of them, but in a world of risk, trust was an ephemeral thing. It was a commodity, like everything else, only binding if it brought value, and it had ceased to do that. The ties had to be cut. There was no other path. He had twenty minutes.
He’d got rid of Amanda by sending her home to pack, believing they were eloping together. Now he had to make sure that there was no clue in the flat to where he might be going. He rushed to fill a holdall and selected clothes that made him look casual and ordinary. He shoved toiletries in there and kept listening out for signs of sirens.
He had no doubt that Sarah would go to the police, and he kicked himself again for his stupid mistake. The incident had made up his mind. If only he’d been able to get her in the flat, he’d have been able to shut her up. He hadn’t seen the kick coming; he’d thought her meek and mild, which was why she’d been the perfect companion. He couldn’t believe his stupidity at letting her go.
He had to keep a cool head and think. His picture had been released to the press, and he was already a pariah in the area because of Sadie Rawlinson’s accusations. That little bitch: maybe he should pay her a visit and finish her off. Or he could try and maintain self-control and focus on what was important: his own safety. Sadie would die from an overdose sometime soon anyway. But the need to hurt someone overwhelmed him, and he couldn’t help himself.
He checked outside again. Perhaps Sarah hadn’t gone to the police after all; perhaps she was too scared. It was a possibility, otherwise surely they’d have been here by now. He looked at his watch. Sadie Rawlinson’s flat was only two streets away, and he smiled at the serendipity.
He pulled on a hoody and a woolly hat, and wrapped a huge knitted scarf around his face. Then he threw the bag over his shoulder and left the flat. In the distance, carried on the wind, he heard sirens; he thrust his head down, and began to jog, making his way through the rabbit warren of streets.
He’d supplied Belinda Rawlinson for years. When he reached her flat, he banged on the door and was welcomed like an old friend. She told him that a message had been left on her phone about Sadie being held in custody, but she’d forgotten to check on her. Tony looked at her with disgust: she was all skin and bone, sunken eyes and flaky skin. Her nose was bulbous and red and her teeth were rotten. Anger welled up inside him and he felt an overwhelming sense of self-pity and frustration. He couldn’t understand how it had all unravelled.
The rage built. His heart rate elevated and blood rushed to his cheeks. The woman in front of him swayed slightly from side to side, and he was filled with the red-hot desire to make somebody pay for fucking everything up. He heard her voice asking him if he had any gear. He looked at her and noticed that her face was changing, as if in slow motion. She looked scared.
Then he was chasing her, and in no time at all, he was on her. All he could see was Sadie Rawlinson, the bitch who had started every ball rolling against him until he had nothing left. He knocked her over and pinned her down, straddling her like a beast. His hands tightened round her throat and her eyes bulged in terror. He pinned her struggling legs with his knees. She clawed at his hands, but she was turning purple and he heard, and felt, something snap in her neck.
It was a few minutes before he realised that his rage was subsiding and she’d stopped moving. He looked down at her and began to shake. He refused to believe what he’d just done. He released his grip around her neck and stared at the scratches covering his hands. He couldn’t bear to look at her face, and he got up to fetch something to cover it with. He threw a tea towel over her head and stood back.
Holy shit. Adrenalin hit his gut and he rushed to the sink in the kitchen and threw up. Then he grabbed his bag and left, pulling the door tightly shut behind him.
Chapter 63
Radio contact with Eden House was constant. The operation was overseen by the strike force chief from the Manchester drugs squad, who had been looking for a way to get to Galic for eight months. He spoke to DCI Porter every half-hour. She sat in the incident room and bit the skin around her nails. She looked at her watch and wondered why it was taking so long to arrest Tony Blackman. With Stanton in custody and Bobby dead, Galic was the final missing link. But they couldn’t risk any harm coming to the boy, so they had to be patient.
The strike force chief had called in that they’d located Galic and had him under active surveillance. They’d also confirmed the presence of a small boy in his care. He was heading to Cumbria, but they couldn’t decide how to proceed: the strike chief had his
remit and so did Kelly. They finally agreed to tail him into the county and have several vehicles on standby.
It didn’t take long to work out that Galic’s vehicle was heading in the direction of Tony Blackman’s second flat. Which was empty. Kelly had arranged for a thorough search of the property; meanwhile, their absolute priority was apprehending the man himself. The charges against him were stacking up, and she prayed that he hurt no one else. When suspects fled, it meant they’d reached a stage of fear and desperation so intense it made them incredibly volatile, and no one really knew what Tony Blackman was capable of.
Kelly beckoned Rob. ‘Come on. I want to be on the scene for this one,’ she said.
Rob was only too willing to accompany her. They’d have to hang back, behind the patrol cars already heading to the address. The man had been wanted for two years over an area comprising four jurisdictions; and internationally, much longer than that.
Once in the car, they used a police light and fired up the sirens. Even with the warnings, the general public was lethargic as always and parted for them only stubbornly. Regardless of this, the anticipation was raw and they felt the familiar satisfying joy of an impending arrest.
Nothing had prepared them for what they found when they arrived.
The address was surrounded by patrol vehicles, and a number of uniforms were standing underneath a fourth-floor walkway, trying to negotiate with a man. Hanging by his hands over the edge, kicking and screaming in fear, was a male toddler. Kelly instantly knew that it was Dale.
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