by D J Harrison
52
I'm sitting in the same seat in Morrison’s café that Popov used. It has an excellent view of the car park and entrance to the supermarket.
There’s bedlam all around me, women feeding unsuitable food to ungrateful children. They should all be at home enjoying something healthy and nutritious, rather than scoffing fatty chips laden with crimson ketchup. I watch as Wasiewicz walks uncertainly across the car park. The young woman accompanying him is a dark-haired clone of Lottie. My heart leaps in excitement and fear when I see her.
It now seems unfair that I didn’t invite Lottie to this meeting. My excuse that my pretence in front of Wasiewicz might be undermined by the high emotion of a sisterly reunion now seems absurd. I suppose I have the excuse that there was no certainty about what might happen. Whether she'd even turn up, whether she'd be the right Kat, how she would be.
I let them find me. I sit staring out into the car park, but conscious all the time of their approach. Wasiewicz’s voice invites me to turn, but I already know that he's there.
‘Mrs Parker,’ he speaks more deferentially than he did in his own place, ‘this is the woman you asked for.’
‘You can go now, leave us alone.’
I stare hard at Wasiewicz, avoid looking at Kat. As if he expected it, Wasiewicz withdraws. I motion Kat to sit opposite me. I wait until I see him walking out of the supermarket before speaking.
‘You are Ekaterina Federenco?’ I ask.
‘Yes.’ Her eyes stare at me without betraying any kind of emotion.
‘You’re from Odessa?’
‘That’s right.’
‘Do you know why you're here talking to me?’
‘No, not really. They said I had to answer your questions.’
‘Do you know why they said that?’
‘No.’
I'm looking at her closely; she’s sitting uncomfortably on the edge of the seat. Her eyes are meeting mine, but there's no connection there. Her face is gaunt, her cheekbones prominent, making dark shadows under her eyes. Her hair is jet black, cropped short; stylish but unflattering, almost boyish in look.
I'm trying to feel into her, but get nothing but flatness. There's none of the warmth I associate with her sister. I want to embrace her, tell her she's safe, take her to her sister, but her demeanour is stopping me. If I tell her who I really am, can I trust her? What will she tell Wasiewicz about our meeting?
Any euphoria at finding Kat after all this searching has dissipated now, and I'm left with serious doubts. If I whisk her away, what will that tell Wasiewicz? It's possible he won't care, that she'll be glad to be rescued, but I'm getting the feeling that it's not as simple as I'd like to think. At least I've seen her. I know she's here in Manchester and she's alive. I wouldn't add ‘well’ to that list; there's a frozen numbness about her that makes me worry.
‘We've had a report that you're being held against your will, Miss Federenco. If you come with me I'll take you to your family. You'll be protected against any threats that have been made.’
‘No,’ her reaction is swift and vehement, ‘I don't want to go back. I have a visa, there's no problem. I am legal, it's true.’
‘So you're free to come and go as you please?’
‘Yes, certainly. I travel, go to places.’
‘Back to Ukraine?’
‘Sometimes, yes.’
‘But you never visit your family?’
‘Too busy, job to do.’ Her eyes aren't registering any reaction to my questions.
‘And here in Manchester, don't you have a sister living here?’
‘Yes, she's here.’
‘But you've not been in touch, have you?’
‘No, like I said, too busy.’
‘Lottie would like to see you.’
‘Oh.’ Her eyes flicker, as if she realises for the first time that I have a genuine interest in her.
‘Don’t you realise how worried your family are? They’ve been fearing the worst all this time – they think you’re in terrible trouble.’
‘I don’t have trouble. All okay with me. Too busy, is all.’
‘So what are you doing? What keeps you so busy that you can’t even call home?’
‘I have a job. Work all the time. Try to make a living.’
‘Your job,’ I ask, ‘what exactly do you do?’
‘Lots of things,’ she replies.
‘But mainly what do you have to do?’ Her face twists little; she looks like she doesn't know what to say or is reluctant to say it.
‘Human resources,’ she answers eventually. ‘That's what you'd call it; finding staff, recruitment, that kind of thing.’
I want to press her, make her tell me exactly what she’s recruiting for, ask her how many men she's been forced to have sex with, and who’s frightening her so much that she’s frozen into silence. But I do none of these things, I've said enough, maybe even too much for her safety and mine. I make her give me a phone number and an address before I allow her to leave.
53
‘What the fuck do you call this?’ Slater is holding a typed script between finger and thumb, as if reluctant to actually touch it. We are in Hector’s office. Hector isn’t here though. This is the only place I’d agree to meet, refusing to go to a police station as requested and making it clear that he wouldn’t be welcome at my house. I told him, it’s important to maintain my cover, that we shouldn’t be seen together, but I doubt he believes that any more than I do.
Hector’s PA reluctantly admitted us to the inner sanctum but neglected to offer any refreshments. Not that hot water tinged with yellow can be considered refreshing.
‘It’s my witness statement. It’s what you asked for.’
‘It’s not what I asked for, it’s no fucking good to anyone.’
‘It’s the truth, it’s what happened.’
‘Bollocks. Look, Jenny, this is serious. We need something much better than this to nail Lafferty with. We’re in serious danger of the Crown Prosecution Service throwing the lot back in our faces. His lawyers are already creating merry hell. They’ve managed to get a hearing before a judge on Friday. There’s a chance we won’t get past that and Lafferty won’t face any charges at all.’
‘That’s your problem, Sandy. I got you to him, gave you him on a plate. You’ve had over a week to go through his documents, examine his bank accounts, find what you’re looking for. That was our deal. Are you telling me you’ve found nothing, even though you’ve had access to everything he’s up to?’
‘We need more time. It’s a complex business, we can’t be expected to get what we want in only a week.’
‘Then tell that to the judge.’ Sandy’s face, already flushed, darkens to deep crimson. It’s like talking to a squeaky toy with a strawberry for a head.
‘It may not be enough, we have to show him an offence has been committed. Giving you that cash was an offence. You have to make that clear.’
‘I’ve written down what happened, that Lafferty gave me the money, that it’s a loan, that it’s in cash. I can’t tell where he got it from, how would I know?’
‘They’ve arrested him for money-laundering, you know that. I need you to tell the court that Lafferty has illegal earnings that need to be made legitimate. That he gave you cash so that you could pay him back in a way that looks like a valid business transaction. You have to give evidence about intent, otherwise we’re going to struggle to get this any further.’ Slater is still trying to be as persuasive as he can. Good, this means he’s got no idea what’s really going on. The longer it takes for him to realise, the deeper in he gets.
‘Where does that leave me?’ I ask.
‘I don’t understand, Jenny. You’re a prosecution witness, once you’ve done your bit you’re out of it.’
‘So you can guarantee I’ll not be charged with anything, even if I admit I’ve been laundering Lafferty’s money?’
He stares blankly at me and hesitates before answering. ‘All you’ve done is help
us catch Lafferty. Why would we want to prosecute you?’
‘That’s exactly the question you need to answer yourself, Sandy. Receiving Lafferty’s cash is as much an offence as giving it over. You want me to write a signed confession that I’m in the money-laundering business? What if Lafferty wriggles out of it? All you’ll be left with is me.’
‘If you do your job, he’ll not get out of this one. Anyway, it’s the tip of the iceberg. Our investigations are bound to find loads more things to charge him with. All we need is more time. You can get us that, Jenny.’
‘I’ve no idea where Lafferty gets his cash. I can’t tell the court what I don’t know. If I make something up, his barrister will make us all look stupid. It’ll be worse than if I said nothing.’
‘This is serious, Jenny. If you are not going to cooperate we will be taking a different view of things.’
‘I am cooperating. If you want me to admit to offences that I haven’t committed, then you’re asking something nobody in their right mind could possibly do.’
Slater hands me a copy of my witness statement. I can see he’s made a lot of alterations, added things, crossed bits out.
‘Have a look at this amended version,’ he squeaks. I feel his eyes boring into the top of my head as I read it. It’s even worse than I thought; he’s making me out to be a willing accomplice. With my previous conviction taken into account, it looks like I’m a professional money-launderer. ‘We’ll also need the cash he gave you, as evidence.’
‘I’ve not got it,’ I say.
‘But you must have.’
‘I used it to pay someone. I thought that was part of the act.’ He looks even angrier now.
‘Who did you pay? They could be in a lot of trouble and so could you.’
‘Dan Henderson,’ I say. ‘He’s a consultant. I can give you all his details if you want them. In the meantime, I really think you should explain exactly what trouble I might be in before I consider making any changes to my statement.’
His fury has turned his head dark purple. His obvious frustration is a welcome sign that he’s got no idea of what’s actually going on.
54
‘This is Tina.’ Mick smiles benignly at the diminutive blonde girl sitting in the weighbridge cabin. He must detect my surprise as he quickly continues, ‘She’s got plenty of experience operating a weighbridge. Used to work on a landfill site when she was a student.’
‘Oh,’ is all I can manage. ‘I thought you’d be bringing one of the lads from the park in.’
‘You’re kidding,’ Mick smiles, ‘it’d be quicker to do it myself than try to teach one of them. Tina’s going to be perfect for you.’
‘I can speak, Uncle Mick.’ Tina stands up and shakes my hand, looking intently at me with big brown eyes. ‘I can help out for a month or so, I can’t promise any more than that. As long as you understand. And don’t worry about me, I know how to deal with skip drivers. I got plenty of practice fending them off and teaching them it’s better not to upset me.’
There’s a feeling of honesty and openness. My initial concerns disappear completely. Beneath that pretty and delicate exterior there’s a strong and determined young woman.
‘Then we’ll have to find a replacement for you to train up. Why don’t you get started?’ I give her the bunch of keys I extracted from Colin before I told him he was no longer required. Word of his dismissal will have got around by now. I’m expecting the rest of the workforce to exhibit some sort of reaction.
It’s very comforting to have Mick here in my office. His bulky presence relaxes me, gives me strength. He also reminds me of how alone I’ve become. That feeling is not a pleasant one and threatens to derail me whenever it knocks at my equilibrium. The low-pitched grating noise grows in volume as Greg’s wagon parks next to the window and his face thrusts through my doorway. I’m glad to see his belligerence diminish slightly as he sees Mick, but he overcomes his surprise and marches in red-faced.
‘You’ve sacked Colin,’ he states.
‘Yes,’ I reply.
‘You can’t do that. Colin’s been here for years, you can’t just get rid of him like that.’
‘It’s my business now, Greg, I can only keep on the employees I trust.’ I look at his face. He turns away, stares at Mick.
‘So you’re getting rid of us all then?’
‘No. If I want you to leave I’ll tell you. Colin had to go, certain irregularities were brought to my attention, things can’t be allowed to carry on like that. The company can’t stand the losses, we’ll all be out of a job.’
‘He’s going to take you to a tribunal, unfair dismissal. He’ll win thousands from you, they’ll make you give him his job back as well.’
‘We’ll see. I’ve a feeling that Colin might not want to do that. If he does, the police are likely to get involved. There’s a substantial case against him if he wants to take that route.’
‘Have you called the police then?’
‘No, Greg, that would cause a lot of disruption and take up too much of my time. I will if I have to, though.’ I’d rather let Colin go quietly and get on with trying to secure all our jobs. The last thing I’d ever do is involve the police, my life is complex enough without them poking around. I’d be afraid of what else they might find. I’ll have to hope the message gets across that I’m on to the scams and I’ll not be putting up with them any more. As for Colin, he went quietly enough yesterday, I hope he stays that way.
Greg exits in obvious confusion. Mick stands up with difficulty, steadies himself on my desk.
‘Feels like that guy is looking for trouble. I don’t think you’ve heard the last of it, Jenny.’
‘No, neither do I. For a moment I thought he was going to get violent. Good that you were here or he might have chanced his arm. I’m betting he’s not the ringleader, though, I’ve a feeling that Stefan is involved as well. Colin would only do what Stefan told him to.’
‘Well, that’s all changed, now you’re in charge. No wonder he’s miffed.’ Mick smiles. ‘He’ll be more miffed if he tries anything on with Tina, she’ll sort him out.’
‘I hope she’s going to be okay, Mick. It’s not a pleasant situation to be landed in.’
‘Don’t worry, she’s golden and she might look sweet, but she’s got the heart of a lion. Puts me in my place, she does. I’ve learned not to tangle with her.’
Mick’s laugh is as infectious as ever. I can feel the tension of Greg’s intrusion seeping away.
55
There’s a row of blue chairs along the wall opposite the entrance to Court 10. I have to sit here in isolation, waiting in case they call me to give evidence. The two hours seem like two days. The doors remain closed and I have no idea what’s going on in there. All I’ve been told is that Lafferty’s lawyers have forced the issue and that they’ve lodged an application to have the restraint order removed. I’m not even sure how that might affect things.
As I’m only a witness, at least for the time being, I can’t even bring my lawyer here to advise me. When I rang Edward Knott, he told me to cooperate with the police to avoid being implicated in anything they were accusing Lafferty of, and when I gave evidence, to answer clearly and in a straightforward manner.
‘Watch out for the judge though,’ Edward warned me. ‘If he asks you anything, make sure you think carefully before you answer and make sure you do answer and don’t be evasive.’ Advice that didn’t help but did increase my anxiety levels.
They went in at ten o’clock, it’s now nearly twelve. My bottom is sore. I’m a nervous wreck. A bewigged barrister walks down towards me, black cloak waving like raven wings. A cocky youth in jeans with a reverse baseball cap on his head follows in his wake. The barrister opens the door to a conference room and ushers him in. I can see them talking through the semi-opaque glass. The youth seems less animated than the lawyer, maybe he’s unable to understand what’s being said to him. It reminds me of my first time in court when I was suddenly told to plead g
uilty, that I’d be all right if I did. That it would be the best way of staying with Toby. I did what I was told, but it did me no good. They sent me to prison. All the lawyers did was shrug and get on with their next case.
Now I’m here again, not in the dock but destined for the witness stand which may be just as bad. Can I convict myself by saying the wrong things? The double doors swing outwards, one barrister walks out followed by another, then a gaggle of people are ejected, among them Sandy Slater. I catch his eye and he comes over to me.
‘I don’t think you’ll be needed,’ he says.
My heart leaps with relief. My breathing begins again after an age of restriction. The sensation makes me weak, as if the tension is all that’s been holding me together.
‘What’s happening?’ I ask.
‘The lawyers made submissions, the judge is considering them.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘It means Lafferty’s kicking up an unholy fuss about his arrest and our handling of the whole thing. If the judge sides with him, we’ve all been wasting our time.’
‘So can I go now?’ My thoughts turn to what might be going on at Midgeland. I really do need to be there. All hell could be breaking loose and my only management presence is Tina with a day’s experience. Today the big pile is being shifted. Dan Henderson is making all the arrangements so maybe he’ll be on site as well. I have the feeling that the un-cooperative attitude personified by Greg is spreading to the rest of the workforce. The last place on earth I need to be is here, wasting my time being scared to death.
Slater is shaking his head. ‘Not till our barrister says you can. We might need you after all, I suppose.’ An usher pops his head out of the door, a gaunt man in a black cloak and a stony face. Without any exchange of words, the lawyers and attendants file back into the court, leaving me all alone again. I switch on my phone waiting patiently for it to come back to life. No signal. If there are problems at Midgeland I’m not going to find out in time to do anything about them. The minutes tick by, the corridor is completely quiet. I pass the time by fiddling with my phone. Having no signal means I can’t do anything I want, so instead I play a mindless game of shuffling jewels around, so that they explode and disappear.
