by Sarah Flint
‘Naz, Sab, come here and take a look at this,’ her voice was shaking too.
There were a couple of letters written at the top of the page. The first was torn slightly, so it was difficult to make out, but it looked like an ‘F’. The other looked like an ‘M’.
Underneath them there were three numbers. She read the note over and over but she knew she was right.
‘Look, LV07JCF, that’s Abrahams’ registration number, the car that was used in Susan’s murder.’ She pointed to one of the other numbers. ‘And GN09MHK, that was the one Tanisha was seen in. There’s another one here, KJ08EDG. I bet if we do a check on this, it will come back to a dark blue Vauxhall Vectra Estate and we’ll probably spot it near to where JJ was last seen, or around the area of Downs Cemetery in Brighton.’
They all stood staring at the paper, letting its significance wash over them.
‘Bloody hell, Charlie. What does this mean then?’ Sabira said eventually.
‘I don’t know yet, Sab. But it seems that the Fixer is either our man, or almost certainly knows who is.’
Chapter 37
Hunter was waiting at Brixton Custody when they arrived back. It was heaving with prisoners, many of whom had been arrested by their team. He took one look at the three of them and shook his head.
‘I leave you lot alone for a few minutes and you cause havoc. It sounds and looks like you’ve been having fun though, while I’ve been absent!’ He grinned at them fondly. ‘Good work girls, but now you’re all to see the nurse to be checked over; she’s here waiting. No arguments either. There’s nothing so urgent that it can’t wait a few minutes.’ He stood up straight and cleared his throat. ‘I am responsible for your welfare and I need you all fighting fit. If you need any plasters for your knees, hands or heads, she or Bet is waiting to administer them.’
Charlie opened her mouth to argue but Hunter put his finger to his lips and shook his head.
She looked down at her jeans, noticing for the first time the holes in the knees, edged with dried blood. Naz too, had a nasty swelling on the side of her forehead, while Sabira had some impressive grazes across both elbows. The adrenalin of the morning had masked what injuries they had. Now, glancing at them, there was no doubt they’d all be sore and aching after a good night’s sleep, not that that was likely to happen just yet.
‘In a few minutes, we’ll nip into the interview room and run through what’s been going on.’ Hunter looked across to where a stout, middle-aged woman stood in a blue uniform. ‘Nurse, do your worst.’
With that, he turned and walked away, chuckling to himself. There was no point in even trying to argue. The injury-on-duty reports were waiting.
*
‘Are we ready?’
Paul and Bet had joined them in an interview room adjacent to the custody suite. Bet was still fussing over them and Paul was running through with Naz and Sabira the events of the night before but now Hunter wanted to get on.
‘Well done for last night Paul, I’ll give you all a quick rundown on how things are progressing this end. Sit down Bet, they’ll all live.’
They all did what they were told, Bet smoothing down a last plaster on Charlie’s knee.
‘Right guys, Abrahams and Billingham are just coming out of their sleep periods and will need interviewing. The Vectra and Focus are yet to be examined and we’re still awaiting the arrival of the bagged-up items of property from Hastings. Until that arrives, we can’t go through them and so we don’t know what exactly those two are up to. We know either Abrahams or Billingham could have had possession of the Vectra at the time of each of the murders and we know what Abrahams said initially. He can stay as he is. I’ll get an extension on his time clock to cover the extra custody, even though Latchmere will probably object.
‘I’ll also find one of the other detectives to run through an initial interview with Billingham, although I’m not expecting much conversation. They’re both well known to police and they both know the score.
‘I think I told you this morning that Vincent Atkins was released on bail. He has quite stringent conditions; to live and sleep at his friend’s address, to sign on at Croydon police station every afternoon and he’s had to hand over his passport. He’ll be returning in a week or so’s time.
‘Mickey Barton is still in. Hopefully something will come back forensically from Tanisha’s crime scene, but I think I might have to let him go on bail until we know one way or another, but I’ll see.
‘And now we’ve got Miller in a cell awaiting further charges. He’ll be going straight to court and prison as soon as possible. The sooner he’s banged up in a proper prison with medical facilities the better. There’s no way I want him going off on another excursion to the local hospital, even if he’s gasping his last; and I’ve made that quite clear to the custody officer.’
‘With any luck, he’ll do that while he’s inside,’ Charlie commented, to agreement from Naz and Sabira.
‘We’ll make sure we get him charged with Marcia’s robbery and the GBHs on Annie Mitchell and Ben straightaway so he can be shipped off as soon as possible.’ Naz rubbed her head sub consciously. ‘Any other robberies and assaults can wait. We’ll go into prison and get him charged there if necessary.’
‘Good thinking and an excellent job.’ Hunter was impressed. He turned to Charlie. ‘How did you find out where he was? You’ve mentioned the registration numbers but I haven’t heard the full story yet?’
‘Caz, Tanisha’s flatmate, gave me a shout. I had a little chat with her about Miller when we went the flat. She knew him as Slasher. Said she’d let me know if she saw him. He’ll never guess she told us where he was either. It could have been anyone. He’s so well known around there.’
‘Nice! She’s a good kid. Shame she is where she is. We’ll have to see if there’s anything we can do to help her, seeing as she’s helped us. Tell me about Feliks Makary? Where does he fit in?’
Charlie had been waiting for the moment. ‘Well… Caz said Miller had gone to a guy known as the Fixer, on account he’ll buy in all the nicked gear, and make false IDs. He fixes stuff for everyone, but up until now he’s never been on our radar. He’s probably used a few false IDs himself. She told us where he lived. We caught Miller coming out of Makary’s flat. To cut a long story short once we’d got Miller detained, we went into Makary’s flat. He was very polite and pleasant and gave up the property Miller had just sold on to him, probably in the hope that we’d go away.’
‘But obviously you didn’t.’ Hunter’s face was animated. It was just the sort of thing he loved getting involved in.
‘No,’ Charlie smiled. His enthusiasm was infectious. ‘Obviously, he got nicked. You should have seen the place though; more stolen gear than I’ve ever seen but the most interesting part was his bedroom. It’s where he makes all his counterfeit documents. There were fake passports, driving licences, you name it, but then we found this.’ She pulled her phone out and scrolled down to the photos. ‘I’ve sealed the original already for the Scenes of Crime to have a look at but I took a picture of it.’
Hunter zoomed in to see better. ‘It’s got Abraham’s registration number on it.’
‘Yes, and look at the other numbers; one of them is the same as the Vectra at Tanisha’s murder and there’s another index number which also comes back to a dark blue Vauxhall Vectra registered in Sunderland. I’ve had a message sent to the local force to see if there’s one at the registered address. Bearing in mind two of the numbers are linked to two of our murders I wouldn’t mind betting we might find that third number is connected to JJ. I’m guessing that Makary has made up some documentation for one or all the numbers. Whether that is for himself - he certainly fits the build of our suspect - or whether it’s for someone else we don’t know.’
‘Possibly Abrahams and Billingham? And the letters at the top? Do we know what they are?’
‘The only thing I can think at the moment is “FM” is Makary’s initials. Other than that, I have no idea.’
>
Hunter sat back and frowned. ‘OK, that’s made up my mind. Paul, can you arrange to get Barton released for the time being. Naz and Sabira, sort out Miller. Charlie, you come with me and we’ll speak to Makary. After that you’re going home. Two hours’ sleep is not enough to survive on, whether you think you can or not.’
*
The interview with Feliks Makary went like so many: ‘No comment’ to almost every answer. It started promisingly enough as his solicitor passed across a prepared statement, written in Makary’s own hand writing.
Charlie read it out as she received it, for the benefit of Hunter, the solicitor and to get it recorded on tape. It said nothing much more than he had already said.
‘I, Feliks Makary, am staying at 31 Roman Road. It is not my flat. It is owned by a friend called Radislaw who is out of the country at the moment. I don’t know his surname or when he is returning. He allows friends to leave their property at the flat and charges them a small amount to look after it. I have been continuing to do this while he is gone. None of the property is mine and I do not know who it belongs to. To my knowledge the property is not stolen.
‘Today police came round after a friend had dropped some property off. I immediately gave these items to police. I do not know the man personally, but I know him from the streets. I had no knowledge of what was in the bag or how he had obtained it. I just look after people’s goods for them. I have done nothing wrong.’
Whatever Charlie then asked, he fended off, either by making no comment or repeating sentences from his statement. It was madness. There was no way he did not know that much of the property was likely to be stolen or the names of the people who brought it. There was so much of it and they were all the type of items that were regularly stolen from houses, cars and people
Likewise, with the printing equipment, he blamed Radislaw for everything. He did not know what it was or what Radislaw used it for. He just sat in front of the TV when he was there and did not get involved.
Charlie was tired, she was frustrated and, more than anything, she wanted proper answers, not bullshit. When it came to asking Feliks about the piece of paper with the index numbers, her patience had almost disappeared. He knew nothing about it. When she told him that two of the registration numbers were believed to belong to vehicles involved in serious assaults, he paused for a split second but then continued to deny any knowledge. He knew nothing. Radislaw must have dealt with it. Ask him. So why did it have his initials on the top of the page? He didn’t know. He didn’t know what the index numbers referred to. He had nothing to do with it.
She rose to her feet as she felt her anger mounting. She’d had enough. ‘Is there anything else you would like to add or alter before I terminate the interview?’
‘No.’ Makary shook his head.
She leant across and stabbed at the button on the recorder, switching it off.
‘Or should I ask Radislaw?’
*
‘Charlie, go home. You’ve done enough today.’ Hunter patted her on the shoulder.
She jumped slightly at his touch and rubbed her eyes. She was exhausted and her body was running on autopilot.
‘I’m going to Mum’s, she’s promised me my favourite lasagne for dinner.’
‘In that case, you can take a police car, as long as you bring it back in one piece in the morning. I hope you don’t mind but I’m going to ask Paul to ring Ben. If you’re heading out that far it’ll be better to have him as company, so you don’t doze off while driving.’
Charlie nodded, genuinely grateful. Meg would be delighted to cater for Ben, and they’d both be glad to have him there.
‘Sorry boss, I nearly lost it in there. I don’t care about all the stolen gear; or at least not just now. I don’t even mind about Miller getting rid of the property from his robberies there. He’s bang to rights anyway. But that bastard holds the key to who is killing and mutilating innocent people and he doesn’t give a shit. ‘He also knows all about that note. Did you see the way he paused when I said the vehicles had been involved in serious assaults? He knows. And he knows what the initials on the top stand for. If they’re not his, he knows whose they are.’
Hunter nodded his agreement. ‘It looks like it’s written in his hand writing. I’ve checked it against his prepared statement. The formation of the letters is very similar.’
‘He’s lying, boss. There is no Radislaw. There was no other personal property, nowhere for them both to sleep, absolutely nothing to suggest any other person lived or stayed there. There’s only one Fixer and that’s Feliks.’
‘Let’s hope a night in the cells will make him more helpful then. We’ll show him photos of Abrahams and Billingham tomorrow; see if he recognises their faces, even if he still insists he doesn’t know their names.’
‘Fingers crossed then?’
‘We’ve tried that once before and it didn’t work.’
*
Ben was waiting outside, his tall, lean body propped up against the lamp post. He looked as if he’d run all the way to Lambeth HQ from his flat, as his dark hair was blown back from his forehead and his cheeks were ruddy. He was unshaven but the stubble just made him look more rugged in the fading light. His face creased up into a huge grin as she came into view, his eyes shining in the glow of the street lamp. He looked as alive as she felt dead.
‘I came as soon as I was called. I hear you got him then? Well done.’ He squinted at her as she approached. ‘Wow, you look pooped?’
‘What sort of word is that from a rufty-tufty ex-soldier?’ she teased.
He picked her up suddenly, spinning her round and round several times before putting her back down and kissing her chastely on the top of the head. ‘The sort of word you get from an admirer who is trying to act in a chivalrous manner.’
His actions made her laugh and all her previous exhaustion seemed to melt away. She’d almost forgotten the accomplishment of catching Miller.
‘Pick me up then, Sir Ben, our chariot awaits.’ She laughed again as he did as he was told, carrying her through the gate into the car park at the rear of the office. ‘Though, unless you keep me chatting, the chariot driver might fall asleep at the controls.’
Chapter 38
The voice that crackled across the phone line was slurred and almost indistinguishable.
‘It’s too late for me! My life is ruined. It will be better when I’m dead!’
Charlie pressed the receiver to her ear, trying to clear away the fuzziness. The ringtone had woken her starkly from several hours deep sleep, sandwiched into the corner of the large maroon sofa, her legs propped up on Ben’s lap. The words resounding across the line now brought her straight back to reality with a start.
‘Who is this?’ She recognised the voice but no name had come up on her phone and she couldn’t quite put a face to it.
‘It’s Vincent Atkins.’
He sounded different; volatile, almost excited, the pitch of his voice going up and down in a disconnected way. She remembered the way he’d looked when she’d last seen him in custody, how vacant and distraught he’d seemed; how he’d paused at the question about contemplating suicide. There was definitely something wrong.
‘Have you taken something, Vincent?’
‘Yes, I believe so.’
‘Where are you?’
‘I’m in my office, where my life was, before you lot came and destroyed it. But it won’t be long now. Come, come and watch me die.’
The phone went dead. Charlie’s brain was racing. Atkins sounded desperate. Jumping to her feet, she saved his number and tried to ring back but her call went unanswered. She tried again but it was the same. She couldn’t allow him to die. He was one of their suspects, and if he did prove to be their killer, the victims and their families would never get justice. She could never let that happen.
Ben was on his feet too. ‘Let me come with you.’
‘No, Ben you can’t.’ She wasn’t going to put him in danger again. ‘You’re
still covered in bandages from last time and I was lucky not to get disciplined for having you with me. If you come this time, they’ll want to know why, especially now I’m driving a police car.’
Ben paused, as if about to follow anyway. As an army man she bargained on him understanding the threat of discipline but still he seemed unsure.
‘Besides, I’ll be back before you know it and I won’t be alone.’
She pulled a woolly hat over her head and ran out, leaving Ben standing, crest fallen, at the door. She’d sought his perspective on the case during the journey home, in order to get a balanced view, but for now he’d have to wait.
The clock on the dashboard read half past nine as she started to drive. Her first priority was to get assistance; she was some way off and didn’t want to have lied to Ben. Hunter and Paul would still be at work. She put Hunter’s number into the hands-free and waited. There was no way she’d be taking this on by herself. Atkins was clearly deranged; he’d been getting more unhinged every time they’d seen him. He could be capable of anything. Hunter answered quickly.
‘Guv, I’ve just had a call from Vincent Atkins. He sounds off his head. He says he’s in his office and is threatening to kill himself. I’m heading there now but could use some back up, and it’s probably worth getting an ambulance on way.’
‘OK Charlie, I’ll get Paul. Naz and Sabira are still here finishing off and they’ll probably come too. I can make some calls en route. We’ll meet you there.’
He hung up and Charlie suddenly felt uneasy. She’d had a bad feeling about everything since finding that scrap of paper on Feliks Makary’s floor, but she didn’t know why. The more she thought about it, the more she knew he held the key, but the bastard was looking after his own back. They were missing something.
*
The grounds of the school were in complete darkness when Charlie arrived. The gate to the main car park was open and a lone vehicle was parked in the far corner. She jotted down the number. It wasn’t one she knew. She did a check on the radio set in the car and it came back as registered to Atkins.
