by Lee Weeks
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, she wasn’t just someone, was she?’
‘Sorry?’
‘She was the person who had the spare ticket.’
Tapp tilted his head to one side, but his face became darker. His eyes narrowed onto Carter’s face as if trying to read every expression.
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Can you show me the ticket?’
‘I looked for it before; I must have thrown it away.’
‘That’s the only way she got near enough to Alex to take him. She gained access to the ground that way. She met him on the way to the toilet, but then he knew her, or he trusted her implicitly. She arranged to meet him at half-time. Why was that?’
Michael Tapp shook his head. ‘I remember now.’ He looked relieved. ‘In the end I gave the ticket away to one of the people at Alex’s school, one of the dads.’
‘Did he pay you? It’s what fifty pounds? It’s a lot of money to right off.’’
‘I don’t remember. I owed him maybe. I just don’t remember.’
In the kitchen Ebony was watching Helen with concern.
‘Are you okay?’ she asked, seeing her shoulders bow and begin to tremble. ‘You and your husband . . . everything alright, Helen?’
Helen Tapp turned and looked at her: her face was flushed; she wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand.
‘Bound to be difficult. He doesn’t like showing his feelings. He’s in denial.’
‘Is he home a bit more to help you?’
‘The last few days he hasn’t been.’
‘Helen, I’m sorry to ask you, but do you have a strong marriage? Have you been having problems?’
Helen Tapp nodded wearily. ‘He has had affairs.’
‘Has?’
She nodded again. ‘I thought about leaving, but with Alfie so small – and I don’t have a job. I don’t have my own money. I wouldn’t even know where to go or how to look after the kids on my own.’ She clasped her hand over her mouth to suffocate the scream about to explode. Ebony went over to her and put her arms round her but she stopped, backed away, swung her head back and forth. ‘No . . . please . . . he mustn’t hear me cry.’
‘We’re going to do our utmost for Alex, Helen. I believe he is still alive. I believe we will find him. When we do . . . you and I will talk again and I will put you in touch with women who can help you in whatever you decide to do.’
Helen grabbed more tissues from the box on the side and buried her face in them and sobbed silently as she nodded. She looked up at Ebony, her eyes swimming with gratitude.
‘Now stay strong, stay optimistic, because we have a team out there working twenty-four seven just to find Alex and we are going to do it. You have to do your side of things and be ready for him when he comes home.’ She nodded. ‘Any woman in your husband’s life right now?’
Helen nodded. ‘This one’s special. I think it’s been going on for a while.’
‘Have you seen her?’
She shook her head. ‘I’ve smelt her on him.’
Chapter 61
Carter and Ebony left the Tapps’ house and walked back across to the detective’s pool car. The smell of cold takeaway greeted her as Ebony opened the passenger door.
‘Have you finished with that?’ They’d picked up something for lunch from a drive-through on the way. A half-eaten burger was on the top of the dashboard.
‘Be my guest . . .’ Carter watched her, amused. He pressed another square of nicotine gum out of the packet and substituted it for the old one.
Ebony started on the cold chips.
‘Nobody feed you at home?’ Carter shook his head in disbelief as he watched Ebony foraging for lost chips at the bottom of the bag.
‘Got to eat when you can, Sarge.’ Ebony wiped the ketchup from her hands with the napkin provided and brushed the crumbs from her trousers. ‘Tina feeds me sometimes. She likes experimenting. She likes doing Jamie’s Thirty Minute Meals but we never have all the ingredients so it ends up as Tina’s Two Minute Mash-ups.’ She made a mental note to herself to find Tina when she got back to Fletcher House. She took out her pocket notebook and pen. ‘So he didn’t sleep there last night.’ She talked and scribbled. ‘He came in at half eleven in the morning the next day. He works all the way out in Hertfordshire. There’s no way he’s just popped back. Wherever he’d been he didn’t want to talk about it . . . but it’s not the first time he hasn’t come home. You can tell when a woman has given up bothering to argue back or to stand up for herself. That’s where Helen Tapp is. She’s a bullied wife who is trapped. She said he’s having an affair at the moment . . . with someone special, she said.’
‘We’ll get surveillance on him. He didn’t have an answer about the third ticket. What if that was his girlfriend on the CCTV of Alex?’
They got back to Fletcher House and went up to their floor. Jeanie rolled her eyes sympathetically towards them and then towards Davidson’s office as they walked into the ETO.
‘Davidson wants to see you both.’
Davidson was fuming: pale and shaking with rage. ‘He’s complained. Michael Tapp’s complained.’
‘He’s a slippery fuck, sir. We thought it was worth a shot.’
‘What . . . to intimidate one of the parents of a missing child?’
Davidson drummed the top of his pen on his desktop.
‘He’s a liar, sir,’ said Carter. ‘He’s hiding something, not least that he’s having an affair.’
‘Plus . . . the other mothers from Alex’s school think he’s a creep and screws around,’ said Ebony.
‘Being a serial shagger isn’t illegal. Harassing someone for it is. You two stay away from them unless you clear it with me first. Leave it to the Family Liaison Officer. Leave it to Jeanie, for Christ’s sake.’
‘Yes, sir . . .’ They turned to leave.
‘Ebony . . . you went to see Carmichael – what did you find out from him? What were your impressions of the way he was?’
‘I thought he looked quite rough, sir. He looks like he has gone beyond sleeping.’
‘So he’s working undercover?’
‘Yes. And his name is Hart. He’s been identified by the surveillance team looking at Digger’s club.’
‘That team is being shut down now. The objective was to find Sonny and it’s been accomplished. What information could he give you?’
‘He knew about Justin de Lange’s past history. He says he doesn’t know where de Lange is. I made it clear to him that we have a possible DNA link to Justin that we can’t prove without finding him. I said that solving his wife and child’s murder depends on solving this case and that there is the life of a fourteen-year-old boy at stake now.’
‘How did he respond?’
‘He seemed not to want to think about that, sir. He says he will do things on his own and his own way.’
‘Then we’ll bring him in . . . he can’t be allowed to run around on a vendetta.’
‘Sir,’ said Ebony, ‘he’s working undercover. He could still prove a valuable link to Digger.’
‘I agree,’ said Carter. ‘But I think we should put more men on to watch Digger and Martingale. We need to make them all nervous. Even if Martingale has nothing to do with it, he may be a target somehow. Carmichael may try and get to them. We should keep them under surveillance. Carmichael has to be contained until we find the killers and the boy, sir. We need to use him wisely but we can’t afford not to watch him . . .’
Davidson pressed his hands against the edge of the desk.
‘Ebony? You’re the one closest to him . . . what’s your opinion?’
‘I think Carmichael is in the middle of something and if we pull him out now we may never find Alex Tapp.’
Chapter 62
Robbo had the details of Alex and Shannon’s hospital visits in front of him. He called Ebony in to see him as she left Davidson’s office.
‘Staff lists for the two hospit
als show a cross-over of some agency staff. Three nurses have worked in both hospitals around the time when Shannon and Alex were in having treatment. I suggest you head over to the King’s College Hospital where Shannon was treated. The sister there on the ward remembers her and could be helpful.’
Ebony took the stairs up to Alice ward on the second floor in King’s College Hospital. She showed her warrant card at the door and again at the desk. ‘Sister Phillips?’ Ebony read the name on her badge.
‘Ah yes . . . Detective Willis. I have been looking out the information you wanted. Please come into my office. Please . . . sit yourself down now while I make sure I have what you need.’ Ebony followed the sister behind the desk and into her office. ‘The nurses who were working at the time Shannon Mannings came in to have her arm operation? November eighth 2009?’
‘Yes. That’s right.’
Sister Phillips handed Ebony the staff register open at that week.
Ebony studied the page then turned to see the rest of the staff rota for the preceding and following month. ‘And . . . apart from the core staff there are an extra three staff who appear sometimes on this register? I’d like to ask you about: Josie Quirino, Mandy Spray and Linda Peters.’
‘They’ll be the agency staff.’
‘Do you know these women personally?
‘I have worked with all of them. There are some we will always choose to use if we can. Josie is a Filipina working here; she’s married to one of the ambulance men. Mandy is an old friend who I have known all my working career and Staff Nurse Linda Peters is a very welcome new addition to the great agency staff we can call on. Now she is someone I would love to have working here full-time. She’s very popular, and highly qualified. She loves the kids. She has a great rapport with the parents.’
Ebony took out the clearest of the photos taken of Alex with the woman as they prepared to get into the van.
‘Do you recognise this woman?’
Nurse Phillips took it from Ebony and looked closely.
‘It looks like Nurse Peters, Linda. But Linda’s hair is blonde not dark.’
‘Here Ebony showed her another photo of the woman’s back view.’
‘Yes. It could be her. It’s definitely none of the other two.’
‘Do you keep in touch with her? Have you got her home phone number? Address perhaps?’ Sister Phillips shook her head. ‘Not even from the checks that were run on her when she started working here?’ asked Ebony.
‘No sorry . . . I just ring the agency when we need someone. If she’s free she comes.’
‘How long have you had Nurse Peters work here?’
‘I would say . . . about a year . . . on and off.’
‘Which agency does she come from?’
‘Here . . .’ She pulled out a list from the front of the staff file. ‘Top one . . . here’s where I look when I need staff to cover. You can take that list; I have a spare one. I always start at the top.’
She handed it to Ebony.
‘Do you have a better photo of her?’
‘I’ll ask the nurses that have worked with her. They may have one of her on their phone.’
‘Thank you I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone what my visit was about. We are in the middle of a murder investigation. If any of the agency staff who were working that week contact you again, would you please ring me straight away?’
‘Absolutely.’
Chapter 63
Justin’s head was swollen and throbbing as he dangled upside down. His feet had long since lost all feeling.
Carmichael watched him from the side of the dance floor.
‘Let’s go through things again.’ Justin groaned. ‘Why did you come back?’
‘Business.’
‘You can harvest bodies, sell organs, anywhere in the world.’ Carmichael picked up his rifle and inserted a new magazine. ‘Don’t lie to me.’
‘Okay. It wasn’t just business. We came back for someone specifically. We needed a match.’
‘For who? Martingale? You? Digger?’
‘No.’
‘The woman?’
It was the first time Carmichael had mentioned that he knew there was a woman in their team. Justin didn’t answer. Carmichael repeated the question.
‘The woman. Was it for her? Who is she?’
‘She wasn’t there when your wife was killed . . . leave her alone. She just does what she’s told.’
‘Who are the other Bloodrunners? Is Martingale involved?’ Justin didn’t answer. ‘The woman?’
‘I told you; she does what she is told. I won’t tell you about her.’
‘Do you think she would protect you?’
‘No.’
‘What then? Do you think she’ll have time to get away? Has she got the organs she came for?’
‘She will have.’ Carmichael moved around him in the dark. ‘I remember you at the graveside of your wife and daughter. You want to find out who killed your wife and kid . . . look to yourself, Carmichael . . . you fucking failed them both. They were never meant to be there.’
Carmichael aimed his gun, ready to fire. Justin laughed . . .
‘Yeah . . . do it . . . you useless piece of shit . . . get on with it.’ Justin laughed in the darkness. ‘She begged me to save her daughter. All I could hear was It’s alright, Sophie, Mummy’s alright. She had no idea Digger had already killed your daughter. Digger made Louise suck his cock . . . should have seen it . . . her crying, gagging. Very funny. You know as well as I do that you had a hand in it all. If it wasn’t for you she’d be alive today – you know I’m right.’
Carmichael steadied himself. He leant his weight against the wall and breathed deeply. He knew what Justin was doing. Justin knew he was going to die and he wanted Carmichael to get on with it . . . but it wasn’t Justin’s choice. It was Carmichael’s. He picked up a pair of wire snippers.
Chapter 64
When the call came from her ex-husband Simon, Harding was busy examining the contents of Sonny’s stomach. Seemed that Sonny liked to drink and snort coke but eating wasn’t high on his list.
‘Jo . . . how are you?’
Funny how the sound of someone’s voice could evoke such a mix of feelings, thought Harding.
‘I’m great, thanks. Over-worked, underpaid but people will keep dying on my shift.’
‘Ha-ha . . . you were a bad girl in your last life; it’s payback time.’
‘You could be right. I saw James Martingale the other day. He said you were head boob man.’
‘Hey . . . it’s a dirty job but someone’s got to do it. Not many men get to look at women’s breasts all day.’
‘And draw a line over them saying: “cut here”.’
‘Ha-ha . . . So . . . Miss “Acid Tongue”, to what do I owe your recent communication?’
‘Chrissie Newton’s death. We were going through a divorce at the time.’
‘I recall that . . . yes.’
‘At that time you were a surgeon at St Bloom’s?’
‘Yes.’
‘Did anyone ever ask you to perform an organ transplant in a private hospital and you thought to yourself, there’s something not quite right about this?’
‘Not sure I understand what you’re saying. You know the procedure as well as I do. There’s a lot goes on behind the scenes to free up an organ and match someone from the transplant lists. That part of it is someone else’s responsibility. What’s this about?’
‘Have you seen the news about Bloodrunners?’
‘I thought it was just the gutter press sensationalizing.’
‘No. There’s a lot more and it gets a lot worse than even they could imagine. People are being harvested to order. Bloodrunners offer a “made to measure” service. They hunt down a blood type, a body type, a lifestyle match – they offer anything the wealthiest require. Someone, somewhere pays big money for a bespoke service. We think they harvested Chrissie Newton thirteen years ago.’
‘Does Mar
tingale know?’ Simon’s voice was breaking. He coughed.
‘He knows. The thing is, Simon, I need your help to make a list of all those surgeons who you worked with at the time, who you think have the expertise to carry out complicated transplants.’
‘I told you, procedures are in place. It just wouldn’t happen.’
‘And you have to remember that it did and it still does. There are surgeons out there who are operating on living donors without knowing that they are perfectly healthy. They are taking life from one to give to another without ever realizing what they’re part of.’
‘Alright . . . okay . . . I get the point. I will help, of course.’
‘I don’t want Martingale informed.’
‘No . . . I agree. Of course. Anyway, I value my job here. I’ll email the names and what details I have over to you. But keep my name out of it.’
Chapter 65
Ebony looked at the postmark on the small padded envelope that had arrived at Fletcher house with no MIT number. It was simply addressed to DC Ebony Willis, Murder Squad and had been posted from a post box on the street outside. It had been franked at the main sorting office in London.
Ebony picked up the envelope and was about to tear the top open when Carter walked into the meeting room.
He was carrying a box-shaped exhibits bag in his arms, resting on a tray of files.
She tore off the top and slid out the plastic bag inside. Then she stood and walked down the corridor to Robbo’s office.
‘I’ve had a present in the post.’
He looked at her face first – she was pale; then he looked at what she had in her hands. The flesh was still soft and wet. The packet smeared with the blood: ten fingertips, severed at the knuckle joint.
‘There’s a note attached. It says: Check for a match . . .’
‘Take it to Bishop.’
Bishop had just finished filling the bag around Tanya’s shoulders with smoking Superglue. It had evaporated now and he took away the polythene and dusted her upper body with ink. The Superglue had stuck to the latent prints. He photographed the prints where someone had held her down. He was just feeding them into the PC when Ebony arrived.
