The Trophy Taker

by Sarah Flint

  ‘Target vehicle is turning right, right, right into the Travelodge car park. Standby I’ll drop a footie off.’

  She held her breath. For what seemed like ages they had no one watching where he was. After all this, were they now going to lose him if he slipped into a room unnoticed?

  ‘For fuck’s sake. What’s happening?’ Hunter voiced her exact thought.

  ‘Cab is moving out. Target is talking to a white male, in his early sixties in the car park at the rear of the block. There’s been an exchange. Associate is walking towards a red Focus, part index HR13. Target into stairwell at end of block, furthest away from main hotel area. Up to the first floor. In, in, in to first room away from stairwell, with a key. Door closed.’

  ‘Shit! We need the fucking Vectra,’ Hunter mumbled, picking up the radio.

  ‘Any sign of a blue Vectra estate in the car park?’

  ‘Standby. Associate now into the red Focus, full index HR13YGH. Lights on and on the move. Heading out of car park and doing a right, right, right on to Bohemia Road, London bound.’

  The surveillance sergeant turned to Hunter.

  ‘I haven’t enough troops to pull them off the main subject and do both. It’s one or the other, boss.’

  ‘Shit. OK, keep your team on Abrahams. Charlie, follow the Focus.’ He turned to the sergeant from the arrest squad.

  ‘Get your lot lined up to go in now. We’ve got enough to hold Abrahams, just on the fact that his car has pinged up near to the vicinity of JJ’s murder and probably Tanisha’s too. Once you have him detained, we’ve got to find the Vectra. If it’s in the car park I need to know now.’

  The radio exploded into action with both sergeants mobilising their officers. Charlie was already accelerating along Bohemia Road in the direction the Ford was heading, having called in a check on the vehicle while the others were talking. It wasn’t shown as stolen but had no current keeper. Hopefully it wouldn’t turn off and she’d be with it shortly. She saw the high rear lights of the Focus some way ahead and recognised them immediately, creeping up slowly behind it to confirm she had the right vehicle. It was. She eased back. Better not get the driver spooked until she was told to stop him, if, indeed she was to be.

  The arrest team were formed up and ready to go. Hunter gave the nod and the sergeant issued the command.

  ‘All units, ready for entry and... go, go, go.’

  They waited in the silence that followed, desperate for the words they knew would follow, but wishing they would come sooner.

  ‘Room secured. Abrahams detained.’

  She could almost hear the collective sigh of relief at the confirmation.

  ‘Any sign of the Vectra?’ Hunter was insistent and she knew why. If what Abrahams had said in interview did turn out to be correct and he had loaned out his car at the time of Susan’s murder, then the male they were now following could be their fourth suspect.

  ‘Standby. He has a car key. I’ll have a look now.’ The voice on the radio was Paul’s.

  ‘Boss, the car’s here. I pressed the remote from the balcony and the lights flashed on a vehicle parked nearby, behind a van. I’ve checked and it’s definitely our Vectra LV07JCF.’

  ‘Good work, Paul. Don’t let anyone touch it. It’ll need a full forensic lift. I’ll arrange it once we’ve got this Focus stopped.’

  ‘All received boss. Don’t worry. I’ll stay with it myself.’

  He sounded happy to hear Hunter’s words of praise and Charlie was pleased too. After his faux pas with the engagement ring he wasn’t going to make another mistake this time.

  ‘Right, that just leaves our man in the Focus now. Stop him when you can Charlie.’

  ‘OK boss, will do.’

  She accelerated so she was closer to the vehicle, maintaining a safe distance, and put the blue grille lights on, flashing the driver to stop. The Focus carried on going straight ahead, gradually speeding up.

  ‘Great that’s all we need.’ Hunter was attempting to change the radio on to a channel which could communicate effectively with the Sussex Force. Any kind of pursuit in the Met was a nightmare these days, even more so if the pursuit was in a county force out of their jurisdiction.

  She flicked the switch, allowing the revolving blue light on the roof to throw its beam across both carriageways and gave the sirens a short burst. There was no mistaking her intention.

  The Focus braked sharply and lurched off the main road, catapulting down a service road into a commercial estate and hurtling down the deserted street towards a large supermarket, lit up like a beacon. Night shift employees milled around at its rear, unpacking pallets of produce from a large articulated lorry.

  ‘At least it can’t really go anywhere from here.’ She followed it as it weaved back and forth across the road. ‘There’s only Sainsbury’s car park in front and it’s a cul-de-sac.’

  As if realising the same thing, the Focus slowed suddenly, almost to a stop, before the driver’s door opened and its occupant jumped out, running slowly towards a high wall and attempting to climb it. Charlie braked sharply and was out of their car in a shot, closely followed by one of the sergeants; together they had hold of their suspect before he had time to try a second time. He wasn’t going any further. He wasn’t even going to try. He was old, out of breath and looked almost glad not to have to bother any further. Looking at him, she wondered why he’d even made half an attempt to get away.

  ‘OK, OK. You’ve got me,’ his voice was slightly higher than she expected and with an almost petulant tone to it. ‘Ah shit, my car.’

  She turned to look where he was staring and saw the Focus had carried on rolling after his early exit and now had a post embedded in it, its front nearside wing wrapped round it and glass from its headlights scattered on the concrete below.

  Hunter had only got as far as the crashed car before their suspect had given up. He glanced at the damage briefly before joining them, looking the man up and down with distaste and bending towards Charlie’s ear.

  ‘Nick him for murder. He’s up to his neck in everything or why try to get away? He’s obviously just returned the Vectra to Abrahams. We need to know which one of them had it at the time of all the murders.’

  She nodded and turned to face their suspect. She’d expected no less.

  Chapter 34

  Arthur Thomas Billingham was saying nothing. The minute he’d been told he was being arrested for murder, he had hardly uttered a word. Now, sat in the rear of a police van, his lips remained sealed. A quick check of his name on the police national computer had thrown up a conviction history that covered almost every crime on the statute book. He was an old lag who knew to keep his mouth shut and with reports that Oscar Abrahams was now also staying quiet they would have their work cut out.

  They stopped off at the Travelodge to see how things were progressing. Abrahams stood sullen and silent on the balcony outside the motel room, his hands behind him in cuffs, his head straining in the direction of each new police officer to arrive, his dead eyes staring emotionless, save for the odd occasion when they flicked between the room and the Vectra, as if suddenly taking an interest in what was happening.

  As Charlie and Hunter climbed the stairs and joined him, he focussed them on her.

  ‘Are you happy now, you bitch?’

  ‘Very happy.’ She remembered the young boy’s distraught face at the end of the computer recording. ‘Very happy indeed.’

  He jerked towards her as if to catch her with a head butt but she stepped back easily.

  Hunter pushed him back against the wall, his fingers against Abrahams’ chin. ‘Don’t you ever learn? Don’t you dare touch one of my officers!’

  Abrahams tried to move but Hunter had him pinned. Charlie smiled towards their suspect sweetly, unable to keep the look of pleasure at his predicament off her face. The boss would never let anyone raise a finger to one of his officers, especially not a female one. It was his way, and she appreciated the “old school” support, rather
than worrying about feeling undermined, as the politically correct lobby would have her think. He came from an age where a man was expected to show respect to a woman and would open the door for her, and she was happy to accept his gesture. Abrahams was the polar opposite.

  ‘Worried about something, are we? I thought you said we’d never find anything on you.’ She scanned the room, taking in the cardboard boxes and suitcases stacked neatly to one side. ‘It looks like we just have!’

  ‘And if you think I’m not going to do everything in my power to get you charged with murder then you’ve got another thing coming.’ Hunter released his grip and nodded to the officer standing with him. ‘Take him away. The van is in the car park. He’s to be taken back up to Lambeth.’

  She watched as he was frog marched towards the vehicle, his trousers slipping down over his buttocks as he was escorted away. He grabbed at the back of them, with his fingers, just managing to stop them falling further as he was pushed up the steps into the rear. Before he disappeared, he contorted round towards them and shouted.

  ‘Whatever you find isn’t mine and you’ll never prove it is.’

  *

  Half an hour later and they were on their way.

  Paul was at the wheel of their car; the two sergeants having headed off with their own squads. Hunter had decided that Charlie deserved a break after the drive down from London and she wasn’t going to argue.

  Both suspects were also en route and both vehicles had been lifted on to the back of low loaders, to be taken to separate car pounds in South London for full forensic investigations. Met officers were now conducting a thorough search of the hotel room and would be doing so for a good few hours to come. Every single item had to be bagged, documented, exhibited and listed on the respective custody records of their suspects later. Abrahams was right in some respect though. Who would be judged to be in possession of the property; the man physically with it when police swooped or the man who had just passed it over? Hopefully their team would be able to prove one or the other, or better still both.

  At least they now had Abrahams’ Vectra, although it appeared to have very recently been valeted and repairs carried out. The forensic team would see through that though. New repairs would be obvious in proper lighting, as would evidence of whether its existing registration plate looked to have been changed recently.

  No amount of cleaning would remove all the evidence. If Abrahams’ car was involved in the murders, the forensic technicians would prove it; everyone knew how detailed the examination would be. If the slightest trace of any of their victims was there, it would be found, miniscule specks of evidence in a fold of the carpet or lining of the boot. It would take time, days, maybe even weeks, but it would be worth it.

  ‘Why don’t you try and get a couple of hours’ kip on the way back?’ Hunter sounded like a concerned parent. ‘It’s almost four and you’ll still have to get Billingham booked into custody once you get there.’

  Charlie stifled a yawn but lay down along the back seat. ‘What about you? You’ve been up too.’

  ‘Paul’s going to drop me off. We’ll be going past my neck of the woods on the way to London, so I spoke to Mrs H just now and she’s going to pick me up from a nearby 24-hour service station and take me home for a few hours. Abrahams and Billingham will be entitled to sleep periods too so it’s not worth me coming in until later. Mrs H will drive me back in this afternoon.’

  ‘Poor Mrs H! You haven’t really just phoned her, have you?’ She peered at her watch, which was reading 03.58 but one look back at Hunter confirmed he had. ‘She’s a saint. I don’t know how she puts up with you.’

  ‘I think I said the same about you, to Ben and your mother.’ He chuckled to himself at the memory. ‘Oh, while I remember, George Robertson phoned while you were driving last night; I didn’t want to interrupt your concentration. Vincent Atkins hasn’t said anything more of note. He’s admitted knowing both JJ and Tanisha through his work at Aspire but hadn’t an issue with them then and hasn’t seen either for some time. Apparently, he just kept crying, saying he wished he’d never started anything with Susan. I told George to bail him back out again. Atkins was doing his head in and I think he’s probably the least of our worries.’

  ‘There’s something about him that’s shifty though. He gives me the creeps in that hat and waistcoat of his.’

  ‘Most people give you the creeps these days. I think you must be going soft. I had no choice really but to let him go; we’ve got to make space for our new suspects and I think these two are worthier, plus we get to lock horns with Justin Latchmere again which’ll be interesting. ‘I’m also thinking of bailing out Mickey Barton but keeping the surveillance team and re-deploying them to follow him. It worked well with Abrahams; maybe we could strike lucky with Barton too. He might even lead us to where our victim’s fingers are hidden.’

  ‘Perhaps we already have them. Maybe they’re stashed in the Vectra somewhere, hidden in the boot with a bagful of tools.’ She closed her eyes at the thought and she didn’t open them again until they were pulling into the yard at Lambeth HQ.

  Chapter 35

  ‘Charlie, Slasher’s here.’

  The phone went dead as soon as Caz said the words. There was no explanation and no knowing when he’d arrived or was going to leave, but Charlie might not get this chance again.

  It was just gone 6.45 a.m. and after a couple of hours’ kip in the back of the car she was back at Lambeth HQ, having just finished booking Billingham into custody at Brixton. Both he and Abrahams were now settled into sleep periods. Paul had just left, having dropped the boss off as arranged and booked in the car. She’d been so deeply asleep she hadn’t even heard Hunter go. Hopefully a few of the team might be just arriving. Everyone was working twelve-hour shifts at the moment. She sprinted up the stairs to the office. Bet was bustling about, tidying the usual mess that had been left from the day before.

  ‘Where is everybody? Miller’s just surfaced.’

  As she was speaking Naz and Sabira came in. ‘Did I just hear you right? Do we know where he is?’ Naz looked almost as excited as she was.

  ‘Yep, I’ve just had a phone call from Caz, Tanisha’s flat mate. He’s at their place now. I need someone to come with me. We can’t afford to miss this opportunity.’

  ‘Keep your coat on, Sab. Count us in. I want to get him as much as anyone after what he did to Annie and Marcia.’

  ‘Not to mention Moses and Claudette. Thanks, that’s three of us then. Bet could you make some calls and rustle up some more backup. We’ll head down there straightaway.’

  Within seconds they were on their way; batons, CS spray, handcuffs and radios in hand. It didn’t feel like much of a defence against a knife or the sharp edge of a bottle but it was all they had. On their way out, they literally bumped into Bill Morley.

  ‘Well, if it’s not Charlie and her angels. Where are you three off to in such a rush?’ He started to chuckle but stopped when he saw the look on their faces.

  ‘Bill, we need your help. Cornell Miller has just been sighted going into a crack house on the St Martin’s Estate.’

  ‘Say no more. We’ve all been looking for him. Evil bastard. I’ll grab a few guys off parade and make our way.’

  ‘Cheers Bill, see you there.’

  ‘You know he’s probably just done another one?’

  She stopped in her tracks. ‘No I didn’t know. When?’

  ‘Just under two hours ago. Night duty are still dealing. It was by the lido in Brockwell Park. Fits the MO. Lots of blood and unnecessary violence. This time it’s an Asian victim. Only enough cash stolen to buy a rock or two of crack.’

  ‘Shit! Well, it sounds like he’s bought and is smoking his rock now. Let’s hope we can make it his last one.

  *

  Cornell Miller was on a high. A fucking big high. He still had the blood of his last victim smeared down his sleeve and embedded around his fingernails but he didn’t give a shit. He had now been on
the run for nearly two weeks and the Old Bill had not even come close. Only that soppy bastard who’d followed him and got the edge of his blade for his troubles.

  It was too easy. He’d scarcely even had to call in any favours. People knew his face and they knew to give him what he wanted, be it a bed for the night, a place to smoke and socialise or the odd rock, on tick. He would always repay his debts. He just needed to find a better class of victim. All the people out early in the morning worked for a living and had fuck all to show for it. Maybe he should start to target the rich bastards who drove round in expensive motors, showing off their gold.

  He laughed to himself at the thought. He should find some black city slicker, who’d taken the job off a white Brit. They would deserve what they got. Maybe he should become a modern-day Robin Hood. He would take from the rich foreigners and give to the poor white. The poor white being him! Then again, the rich and powerful would complain and more would get done, especially if they knew cops in high places. It was who you knew that got people nicked, not what you knew.

  Nah, he was happy as he was and it gave him a kick meting out his own form of social and racial justice, unless of course it was advantageous to keep the dirty immigrants on his side. He was his own boss and he was content to dispense whatever punishments befitted his chosen victim. He shifted on the mattress, sitting up and looking around the room at the bunch of losers who inhabited this world. He was better than them. He was clever, devious and in charge of his own destiny. He shifted his weight again and the wad of bank cards in his rear pocket dug into his buttock. It was time to go and cash them in. The Fixer would give him good money for his stash. He was a foreigner but he was also local and convenient. So, until the day he outlived his use he would do. He yawned, stretched and headed for the door. Today was going to be another good day. He knew it.

  *

  ‘Charlie, you’ve missed him. He’s gone to see the Fixer. He’s got a load of hooky bank cards on him. He was saying he’d just jacked someone.’