The Body Dealer (A DI Erica Swift Thriller Book 5)

by M K Farrar

  She spoke well, though Erica knew from her background research that Angela Hargreaves hadn’t grown up in a particularly wealthy background. She hadn’t gone to a private school, unlike many of her peers, and instead had attended a grammar school, where she’d excelled, and had then gone on to win a scholarship to attend Oxford. While at university, she’d developed her interest in politics and eventually switched her degree from English Literature to a degree in Politics and International Relations. It was at Oxford she’d met her now ex-husband and father of her daughter. The two had broken up when Millicent was six and he’d taken a job in America and had never moved back. As far as Erica could tell, he only played a limited part in his daughter’s life and even when she’d become ill, he hadn’t taken that as an opportunity to return to England.

  Erica didn’t know what Angela Hargreaves’ involvement in all of this was, but she respected that she’d somehow managed a high-flying career together with being a single parent. Due to her job, Hargreaves had had finances on her side, but she hadn’t just been handed that—she’d worked hard for it. Then she’d had to cope with her daughter’s life-changing illness at the same time as holding an important role in government. It couldn’t have been easy.

  Shawn held the back door of the car open, and Angela slid onto the back seat, placing her black bag—smart, but big enough to hold a laptop and paperwork—on the seat beside her. Erica climbed behind the wheel, and Shawn joined her up front by getting into the passenger seat.

  It was a twenty-minute drive down to the station.

  Erica kept checking on their passenger via the rear-view mirror. Angela spent the entire drive on her phone, either answering emails or sending messages—though she didn’t make any calls. She must have messaged her assistant to say that she wouldn’t be attending the meeting she’d been rushing to get to.

  Erica hoped none of those messages were going to the owner of the gym, though if she gave her any reason to suspect her, Erica would get a warrant for the phone and get Karl Hartley, their digital forensics expert, onto it to recover any messages or emails that she might have deleted to cover her tracks.

  She pulled into the car park and opened the door for Angela.

  “This way.” She gestured towards the front of the building.

  Erica led the way, with Shawn bringing up the rear. Erica highly doubted the councillor was going to run—especially since she sported a pair of two-inch heels—but after their experience at the gym, she wasn’t going to take any chances. Running really wasn’t her thing, and she’d avoid it if she could.

  She led them through the building and into interview room three.

  “Can I get you anything, Councillor?” Erica asked. “Coffee? Water?”

  Angela dropped her bag to the floor and draped her coat over the back of the plastic chair. “No, I’m fine, thank you. I’d really just like to get this over and done with. I am extremely busy.”

  “Of course. First, I need to let you know this is being recorded.”

  The other woman’s eyes flicked up to the corners of the room where the cameras were located. “Right.” Her lips tightened, and she clasped her hands on the table, her knuckles white. She clearly wasn’t comfortable, but was that simply because she was aware of how busy she was and how much of her time they were taking up?

  “Do you belong to a gym, Councillor?”

  Her frown deepened. “No, I don’t have time for all of that. I get plenty of exercise racing around with work and family.”

  Erica offered her a smile. “I feel the same way.”

  “Are you a parent, Detective?”

  “Yes, I am. A single parent, actually.” It felt strange to say it, because even though over a year had passed since Chris’s death, she still didn’t think of herself as being one, but she wanted to find a way of getting the closed-off politician to open up.

  “Me, too. It’s not easy, is it?”

  “Not at all.”

  Some warmth had appeared in her eyes.

  “How do you know Kenneth Beckett?”

  She widened her eyes expectantly and shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I don’t.”

  “What about Beckett Enterprises. Ring any bells?”

  “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “We found your name on a list of contacts taken from the office computer of one of the businesses he runs.”

  “Maybe he wanted to contact me about something political. I have to say, this really does seem like you’re clutching at straws. I’m sorry to be blunt, but you said you’re investigating a murder and yet you’re here talking to me about my name being on some list connected to a gym.”

  “The second victim was found missing her liver.”

  She blinked. “What?”

  “We weren’t able to check the first victim for any missing organs since she was so badly burned—”

  “She was burned?”

  “Yes, they both were.”

  “Jesus, that’s awful. I still don’t understand where I’m connected to all of this, though?”

  “Your daughter is on the transplant list, isn’t she?”

  Her brow crumpled, her face draining of colour. “Yes, together with approximately four thousand other people.”

  “And there lies the problem, doesn’t it? Three hundred and fifty people died last year waiting for an organ. I believe your daughter was selected to receive a new kidney, wasn’t she, but was turned down at the last moment.”

  “Yes, but I still don’t understand what this has to do with me or my daughter?” She shook her head slightly. “You said the victim had their liver removed. My daughter is in need of a kidney.”

  “As I just said, we don’t yet know what was removed from the first victim. We may never know.”

  “I promise whatever it was, it wasn’t a new kidney for Millicent. My daughter is definitely still in need of a kidney transplant. When was the first body found?”

  “A few days ago now.”

  Her jaw tightened, the muscles clenching. Her fingers wound around each other, as though she was trying to wring them dry.

  “A kidney can only survive outside of a human body for thirty-six to forty-eight hours, so unless someone’s come up with some miraculous way of making it last longer, I promise my daughter was not, and will not be, the recipient.”

  “That wasn’t what I was suggesting, Councillor.”

  “Wasn’t it? Really? Because it certainly sounded that way to me. Other than my name being on some random list, and my daughter being extremely sick, I really don’t think you have anything to connect me. So, unless you’re going to read me my rights, I assume I am free to leave.”

  She shot up out of her seat, then stooped to snatch up her bag and jacket.

  “We’ll be in touch,” Erica called out to her, as Shawn hopped up to see Angela Hargreaves out.

  She didn’t respond but flounced out of the interview room. Shawn shot Erica a look over his shoulder and then vanished out after her.

  Erica gathered her belongings, shuffling paperwork together and sliding it into her bag, then she left the interview room and went to her office. A few minutes later, a knock came at the door, and she glanced up to see Shawn was back.

  “I wanted to know your thoughts,” he said.

  She gestured for him to come in and sit down. “I think she’s hiding something.”

  “Why?”

  She shook her head. “I’m not sure. She seemed tense—anxious.”

  “It’s understandable that she’s tense. It sounds like she has a lot on her plate.”

  “True. But it was the mention of her daughter, she stiffened right up.”

  “You’d do the same if your daughter was sick and someone tried to suggest she had something to do with two women’s murders.”

  “Maybe you’re right, but we have so few leads on this, I don’t want to let it go just yet.”

  She didn’t know what it was exactly, but something told her the counc
illor knew more than she was letting on.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Erica paid a visit to the hospital. She’d never thought she’d miss having her boss to bounce things off, but she did. She found the superintendent to be a little intimidating, and while she knew she was most likely just suffering from imposter syndrome, having only ending up in this job role because her own boss was sick, she still didn’t feel one hundred percent comfortable interrupting him just to check his thoughts on something.

  She told herself that she was only stopping at the hospital to make sure Gibbs knew they hadn’t all forgotten about him, but she was doing it for herself, too.

  She took the same route to the ward where Gibbs was located, found the room, and paused outside the door. She stuck her head around the corner, ensuring she wasn’t interrupting anyone else visiting—family, or friends from outside of the force perhaps, not that any of them had many of those. But the bedside was empty, and Gibbs lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. He looked miserable, and her chest tightened in sympathy. It must have been so frightening for him, going through a stroke, and now he’d gone from being a man who was in charge of a whole team of people, tasked with finding violent criminals, to someone who couldn’t even smile properly.

  Erica gave a light knock on the door and cleared her throat to announce her presence.

  Gibbs turned his head in her direction, and she stepped fully into the room.

  “Hello, sir. How are you feeling?”

  He fought to sit up, and she hurried out to help him, propping him up against the metal headrest of the hospital bed, and then stuffed an extra pillow behind him.

  “Useless,” he complained. “I hate just lying here like a sack of fucking potatoes. It’s doing my head in.”

  “Do they think you’ll be out soon?”

  “Tomorrow, hopefully. My wife’s anxious about having me home. She’s worried about how we’re going to cope, but I told her I’m not a complete invalid. I think she might drive me crazy, fussing around me all the time.”

  “She’s just worried about you. It’s come as a shock to you both, I’m sure.”

  “I feel like a goddamned old man.”

  “You were already an old man,” she teased. “You can’t blame the stroke for that.”

  “Har har,” he deadpanned. “Hilarious, Swift. Anyway, tell me what’s going on at the office? Anything new on the case?”

  “Plenty.”

  She filled him in on the discovery of the second body and the missing organ.

  “You think the first body would have been missing an organ, too, if you’d got to it before it had burned so badly.”

  “Yes, I do. I think someone is taking specific organs and then burning the bodies to try and disguise what’s happened.”

  “So, they don’t care about the bodies being found, they just don’t want anyone to know why they were dead.”

  “Exactly. But we have no ID on the victims and can’t find anyone who’s reported women of their age and fitting their descriptions missing. It’s like they appeared from thin air.”

  “Someone will be missing them,” Gibbs confirmed.

  She nodded. “There’s something that’s niggling at me, but I can’t seem to get the pieces to fit. I think a politician is involved with all of this somehow, I just can’t figure out how. She has a daughter who is in need of a transplant.”

  “You think she might be working with the same people who killed the women?”

  “Possibly. But the daughter hasn’t had one of the organs, and they don’t match what was taken in the second body. She denies all knowledge, of course.”

  “Why wouldn’t she wait for the transplant the usual way?”

  “She did but was turned down. The girl was too sick for the operation, and the doctors were worried she wouldn’t be a suitable candidate, so she was sent home again.”

  “That must have been rough for them.”

  “Yes, I believe it was. Rough enough for her to look elsewhere for her daughter’s kidney, like perhaps through an illegal source.”

  “She’s high-profile,” Gibbs warned. “What proof do you have of her being involved?”

  Erica sighed and raked her hand through her hair. “That’s the problem. I don’t. Her name was on some documents found at the gym that might or might not be connected to the first body.”

  “It’s not illegal to be tied to a gym.”

  “I know. But I’m sure she’s linked to all of this.”

  “If you trust your gut, then go a step further. Get a production order to check her bank accounts and make an application to her mobile phone provider. If there’s something there, you’ll find it.”

  “It’ll be a high-profile case if the press gets hold of the news that she’s being investigated. Politics and police work tend not to mix well.” Just like within the police service, if a politician did something bad, it made the rest of them stink, too.

  “You’ll have to try to keep it from the press for as long as possible.”

  “I have one other concern. If the newspapers do get hold of it, whoever she’s dealing with might run a mile.”

  “That’s a possibility, but it’s a risk you’re going to have to take. If the councillor knows who is responsible for killing those women, and is involved with them, perhaps to gain a kidney for her own daughter, we need to be there to stop her.”

  Erica drew in a long breath through her nose. “Thanks, sir. That’s what I was thinking, too, but I wanted to have it confirmed.”

  ERICA KNOCKED ON HER superintendent’s office door.

  “Come!” a stern male voice called out.

  Erica opened the door and approached his desk. “Sorry to disturb you, sir, but I need to run something by you.”

  He gave a curt nod. “Go on.”

  “I need to look into a politician. Angela Hargreaves. She’s Minister for Care.”

  “Angela Hargreaves?” He frowned and picked up his pen. “Why do you need to look into her?”

  “I believe she’s somehow involved with the case we’re working on. It’s all circumstantial at the moment, but I think we’ll find something more substantial if we dig deeper. I’d like to request a production order to check her bank accounts and make an application to her mobile phone provider.”

  “On what basis are you placing your suspicions?”

  “She has a daughter who was turned away from an organ transplant that she desperately needs, and the second body was found missing her liver.”

  He frowned. “What organ is the daughter in need of?”

  “A kidney.”

  “I don’t see the connection.”

  Was he being deliberately difficult? Surely, it was obvious. “I don’t think the daughter has had an organ from one of the victims, but I think she might be lined up to be a recipient.”

  “You mean we’re suspecting her of a crime that hasn’t been committed yet?”

  “Angela Hargreaves’ name was found on a list of people in the boxing gym. The van we believe dumped the first body had a sticker of the gym on the back of it.”

  “Do you know for sure that van was used to dump the body?”

  “Not for sure, no, but it’s highly likely.”

  “Then there really isn’t anything substantial connecting Angela Hargreaves with the two bodies, except for the unfortunate fact that she has a very sick daughter.”

  Erica gritted her teeth. “Call it gut instinct, then, sir.”

  “Then bring her in, have a chat with her, see what she can tell you.”

  “I’ve already done that, sir. She was very defensive.”

  He barked laughter. “I’m not surprised. You would be, too, in the same circumstances. I imagine she’s a busy woman who is currently extremely worried about her daughter, and to be dragged in by the police and accused of being involved with some kind of criminal who is murdering people for their organs would be enough to push anyone over the edge.”

  “Let me rule her ou
t for good,” Erica pressed. “If I go through her bank statements and check her phone, and don’t find anything to concern me, I’ll be able to refocus on other leads.” Not that we have many, she didn’t add.

  “You’re asking me to cause a lot of ruckus among parliament just because you have a hunch about something?”

  “Yes, sir, I am.” She forced herself to keep her chin held high, not allowing herself to be intimidated.

  “I’m sorry, but you’re going to need to let this one go. Focus your attention on more worthwhile leads.”

  “But—”

  He lifted a hand to silence her, and she gritted her teeth.

  She understood that it was tricky when dealing with a politician or celebrity of some type when conducting an investigation, and he didn’t want to make the department look bad, but surely this couldn’t be ignored. Would he be saying the same thing if it were Gibbs sitting in this chair now? He’d said he had trust in her, but now he didn’t seem to have any trust at all.

  What had changed? All she wanted to do was go home and see her daughter and put the run-in with her new boss behind her.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  The interview with the detective had shaken Angela.

  She’d had a meeting with several bank managers set up for that day, each of them instructed to withdraw large sums of cash. Because she only needed to pay half up front, it was fifty thousand pounds rather than the full one hundred thousand that she needed to get her hands on, and she could do that by splitting it between various bank accounts and investments she held. It was still a sizeable sum of money, but not so big that it would get people asking too many questions, especially when it was broken down.

  She’d received a text telling her to leave the cash in a locker at a hotel in Canary Wharf. She hated the idea of leaving so much money bundled into a bag and left in a random place, but what could she do? The man she only knew as John James had said they needed to be careful and watch their backs, so he wouldn’t want them seen exchanging money any more than he wanted their bank accounts to be linked.