I could hear Aaron as he moved about in what I presumed must be the kitchen, and Martin and Lee moving on floorboards upstairs.
‘Ma’am, you need to come up here,’ I heard Martin shout.
The bedroom was more furnished than the living room. There was a double bed; if you could call it that, a divan base with a mattress on top and a filthy brown pillow and duvet with no bedding to cover them.
A set of drawers fell sideways in the corner and a pile of clothes on the floor tried with a tired desperation to hold it up.
Sprawled in the middle of the bed was Paul Miller. Thin white legs poked out of dirty tatty boxers. Bruises covered his distorted body. It looked like he had put up a fight. Blood pooled under his head and shoulders, and his face barely visible for the blood smeared over it which had now dried a reddish brown colour.
‘What the hell happened to him?’ asked Lee.
‘I don’t know,’ I admitted. ‘I can’t see any entry wounds for a bullet or any stab marks. I stepped closer to the bed.
‘I’ll call it in and get Jack and CSU here.’
‘Thanks, Aaron.’ My mind ran ahead at a hundred miles an hour now. This didn’t add up. Talbot and the witness against him both dead? I leaned over to look at the blood-smeared face and saw where all the blood had come from and started to back out of the room.
‘We need to get out and stay out, or get suited up or we will be in a world of trouble with the CSU team.’
I could hear Aaron as he talked on the phone on the landing.
‘But, what the hell?’ Lee asked again.
‘They cut his tongue out,’ I answered.
Hannah
There was a static charge running through the incident room. An unknown quantity had stepped up one murder investigation into one altogether more complex that we now needed to get our heads around. Computer keyboards were tapped with a furious energy and the sounds of muted voices hummed like an undercurrent, as various phone calls were made.
I’d updated Baxter from the scene and he’d insisted on turning up at the site to see for himself. He was more of a hands-on DCI than Grey had ever been and I needed to adjust to the difference. He was also permanently upbeat about his work.
Ross and Pasha had been informed and were back from their house-to-house inquiries.
‘Do we have the original file through yet?’ I asked of the room, of no one in particular, to anyone who could answer.
‘It’s being brought over now. It was filed away at HQ straight after the trial but they’ve located it and are fetching it over,’ replied Ross.
‘Great. We need to know what the hell is happening. Why two people on opposite sides of that trial are now dead, a matter of days after it ended with a not-guilty verdict. The answer has to lie in there somewhere.’
I looked to Martin. ‘The bullet recovered from Talbot this morning has gone to CSU for examination, hasn’t it?’
‘Yes, Boss. Straight over,’ he answered.
‘Okay, great. Can you get in touch with them and tell them the job is now urgent please and to put a rush on it? If they give you any trouble give them my details and if they still refuse then let me know and I’ll put a call in.’
He wrote as I spoke.
‘Then as soon as they’ve done their forensics on it, I want it moved to NABIS in the West Mids to see if they can link it to any particular weapons and in turn to any particular person or group, we can’t be slowed down because of the bureaucracy of the queue system in the forensics lab. Also, if you can show Lee the process that would be great,’ I continued.
‘I’ll get on it.’ Martin was organised and easy to work with.
‘Jack has promised to do the PM of Miller tomorrow. I’ll attend that with Aaron. We need to know what went on in that address and we need to know yesterday. We also have to find the second protected witness. If one of the witnesses is dead it’s imperative we check on the second one because we now can’t be sure if his name was leaked. This means he has to be found at speed before he also ends up dead.
‘Diane and Theresa have a lot of work to do with HOLMES now this job has expanded and changed on us.’
I looked at the team, all eager to get to work. ‘What I don’t understand is what links these two deaths. They are obviously connected, and we need to find out why. Other than the fact Miller was a witness against Talbot.’ I scratched at my head, paused before I spoke again. ‘Of course, Talbot could have killed Miller. He did have his name on him before he died. But someone killed Talbot. Either we have two killers or one person killed both of them, which still means there is another party involved.’ The room was silent. ‘So, as I had started to say… other than Miller being a witness against Talbot, what do they both have in common?’
‘The nightclub, Ma’am.’
The voice was quiet and I couldn’t see where it had come from.
‘The what?’
Louder this time. ‘The nightclub. Vanilla Jazz.’ It was Lee.
‘Ah yes, the reason Miller was at Talbot’s address that evening in the first place. He believed Talbot’s drugs were responsible for the death of his girlfriend at the club.’ I turned to Theresa. ‘Can you put that as an action please, to find out what happened that night at Vanilla Jazz?’
A hand went up behind Martin. It was where Lee was sitting. ‘You don’t need to put your hand up, Lee. Speak up if you have something to say,’ I encouraged him. He was new to the team and it would not be a comfortable experience to put himself forward.
His hand slid down. ‘It’s just,’ he cleared his throat, ‘it’s just that I was there that night at Vanilla Jazz. The night the kids died from the drugs overdose and when Miller turned up.’
Lee
‘Tell me about it,’ the DI said.
It was early to be called into a nightclub, he recalled. 12.30 a.m. the night had barely even started and yet they’d just pulled up alongside three ambulances with their lights slicing the inky black night. The moving bulbs from the collection of emergency vehicles made the very area look as though it was shifting.
Lee hooked his thumbs around the equipment on his utility belt and strode across the road and into the club in front of Ken who had been driving and therefore slower to get out the car. Lee was eager to get inside to the action. To see what had happened.
He gave a nod to a green-garbed paramedic stood in the doorway who looked shocked and heard him say, ‘Same age as my own kids.’ He lifted his chin. ‘Up there, mate.’
Vanilla Jazz, the nightclub the youngsters went to. It had become the trendy place to be about eighteen months ago. Serving a multitude of cocktails in fancy glasses with monthly foam parties and laser shows, it even had its very own huge champagne glass you could climb into if you paid enough for the evening. Lee had taken a girl there once but it had cost him so much he hadn’t taken anyone there again.
Not that he could afford a social life now he looked after his nan. Girls were a luxury he’d had to put on hold. He got his kicks through the job these days. Fancy nightclubs were not the life he lived. People were important in his life. One person was important in his life and he would do anything for her. She deserved the world and he would give it to her. What she knew of it. He would provide and make life as easy as he could for her because of all she had done for him.
He was thinking this as he walked into the main room of Vanilla Jazz, with its dark purple velvet seats, low slung dark wood covered tables and lots of metal and glass around the bar area. The lights were full on, the music off and a low chatter hummed through the room as everyone took in what had happened and he saw the mayhem before him. Ken walked up behind him and rested a heavy hand on his shoulder. They stood there like that for a few seconds before they moved, before they got on with the task at hand. There was nothing they could do for the people on the floor. But they did have to do something for the people that were left and for the evidence, so they moved with the ebb and flow of other officers, medics and partygoers who officer
s were attempting to herd into one area to contain them. The partygoers now in a state of shock, faces glazed, make-up smudged and smeared, dark rings around eyes that were once blackened artfully by pencils for an evening of partying now carelessly rubbed and dragged free from their place of application. Party dresses looked out of place in this scene of devastation. The girls were all crying. The boys had their arms wrapped loosely around shoulders. Trying to be brave, to offer support as you were supposed to, but this scene before them, it was like nothing they had experienced before. They didn’t come here for this. They had come for a good time. For alcohol, for party drugs, for girls and boys and a good time.
But it was no longer a good time.
‘I want my mum.’ Lee heard one young girl weep into a girlfriend’s shoulder.
This was a night they hadn’t expected.
There were four young people on the alcohol sticky floor. Lee wanted to tell them to get up, to tell them that they’d get dirty, that their clothes would be ruined if they stayed down there, that people walked all kinds of shit through on these floors, but he knew they wouldn’t hear him. These four were gone and wouldn’t hear anyone again.
The party drugs they had come for turned out to have less party in them than they expected. Though no one would know for sure until post-mortems were carried out, but there were no visible injuries.
The three girls and one boy on the ground needed protection now, they needed to clear the crowd away from them so they could be photographed and a forensic exam commenced in situ by the CSIs before they were recovered and taken to the mortuary for post-mortem. Witnesses needed their details obtaining and first accounts heard to see if any immediate action needed to be taken on the back of it.
One of the dead girls was being cradled by a male who looked a bit older than she was. He was stocky with a mousey crew cut and tattoos that ran up both arms. The other officers had kept most of the people away but this one guy had got through.
He was sat on the ground, the girl pulled into his arms, head into his chest and his face was pushed down into her hair. Lee could see he was weeping.
Ken indicated him on the floor and they approached.
‘Sir, we need you to move away and come and talk to us over here please.’ Ken put a hand on the guy’s shoulder.
He reared back, but had not let go of the girl. Lee put his hand on the handle of his asp. He couldn’t use his CS spray in here. The scene would be contaminated. He didn’t want to fight with a grieving relative but as the guy had pushed back he’d recognised him as Brent ‘Head’ Davis. So known because of his penchant for head-butting people he didn’t like.
‘Hey, it’s okay, we want to help. We want to find out what happened to her, mate. Why don’t you come over here and tell us who she is? Talk to us about her. Come on.’ Ken kept his tone light.
Davis openly sobbed now. ‘Girlfriend,’ he hiccupped out. His face was red with grief.
‘Okay. I’m sorry, Brent, so sorry for your loss. We’ll do all we can for her, but to do that we need for you to move away from her so we can do our job, can you do that?’
Davis stumbled as he tried to stand. He rubbed his lower shin. Tears dripped onto the already saturated floor.
‘She’s my girlfriend,’ he tried again.
‘We get that. Come talk to us.’
He looked lost rather than angry and Lee let go of the grip he had of his asp and relaxed. They walked Davis to some tables and took a seat. Davis collapsed into himself and sobbed some more. The hard-man image well and truly demolished this evening.
From what they could gather, between giant heaving sobs, his girlfriend, Siobhan Farley, was aged twenty-two years and had taken cocaine bought in the nightclub. Davis threatened death and dismemberment at this point, about the dealer and more specifically the people responsible, though he didn’t provide any solid evidence or name the nightclub dealer, he did point the finger at the Talbot family. He took some calming down and a couple of times Lee found himself resting his hand on the handle of his asp, especially when the CSIs started to photograph Siobhan. They had to move Davis pretty quickly towards another room of the club. As they moved they were approached at speed by a male Lee didn’t recognise. He pulled his asp from its casing and was about to whip it out and extend it when Ken told him it was okay, it was a friend of Davis’.
The man threw his arms around him.
‘Fuck, man. What the hell?’
Davis snotted over the new arrival’s shoulder.
‘Fucking hell, this is screwed up. We’ll get out of here, we’ll get it sorted, I promise you,’ said the male.
It was a long night. Tearful and distraught youngsters, unused to the sight of death so up close and personal, especially in such plush and exotic surroundings were breaking their hearts. Parents arrived in cars and demanded entrance to the club which was prevented and there were scenes of chaos both inside and outside of the club while details were obtained, and everyone was checked for who they were, and released. CSIs worked tirelessly before the four young people were recovered and moved to the mortuary at the QMC. Lee was shattered but had agreed to come back into work early the next day.
‘Who was that guy that made the vague threats with Davis?’ he asked Ken as they removed their kit in the locker room.
‘Him? Oh, that was Paul Miller, another of the Buckhurst crew. Not people you want to meet when you’re alone.’
‘Tell me your thoughts and impressions of the Buckhurst crew,’ said DI Robbins.
Lee looked thoughtful. He remembered the young men and older males of the gang he was acquainted with. ‘They’re different to the Talbots.’
‘In what way?’
‘Where the Talbots are heavy-handed and use a lot of physical violence to run their operation and to get what they want, the Buckhursts are, by contrast, quieter. They are thoughtful. They don’t go straight for violence. They seem to think about a strategy before they implement it. People fear them because of their unknown element.’
‘You sound almost impressed.’
A slight flush crept up on Lee’s face. He felt it warm his cheeks and tried to push it down. He dug what small nails he had, into the palms of his hands. ‘Not like you’d imagine. I can’t stand the gang culture, you know that, you know what it did to Ken. But it’s the difference to the Talbots that is refreshing. For instance, instead of beating up on someone to get what they want, they would simply wish their child a happy birthday if it was that time of year or ask how the wife’s new job was going. Let them know they were aware of where their loved ones were without the need to make any specific threats. Subtlety. But if you then met them in a dark alley after you failed to do what they asked, then you need to be very scared of them.’
Hannah turned to Dave Morgan the intelligence officer. ‘Can you get me some stuff on the Buckhurst crew please. If they were there the night of the deaths in Vanilla Jazz and were gunning for the Talbots then I’m interested in who they are and what they’re up to.’
Dave agreed.
‘You really think they could be involved, Ma’am? I only mentioned them because it was his girlfriend. I didn’t think it would be relevant to this.’ Lee worried about the information he had given the investigation team. Where it would lead, how it would be used, how it would come back on him.
He was terrified of the repercussions.
But this was the Buckhursts. It was okay to talk about them.
He was almost sure it was.
‘Don’t worry, Lee, that’s why you’re here. To give us all you know. You’re doing good.’ And with that she walked out of the incident room.
Lee closed his eyes. This would all work out okay in the end. He had to believe that.
That was why he was here.
Hannah
The curved driveway that headed up to police headquarters wound its way between the thick set trees that offered a relief from the warmth of the day with the canopy of branches and leaves that intertwined above.<
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Once at the top of the drive, I said my hello through my open window to Steve on duty at the box. He pressed the button and the barrier in front of me raised.
‘Nice day,’ I offered as we waited.
‘One of a few left, I think,’ he said as he peered down into the car at me. Steve and his fellow security officers stood out here in all weathers, though he did have his small sentry box when he wanted protection from the elements.
‘Thanks, Steve.’ I lifted my hand then drove through to Sherwood Lodge car park.
This was where the armed response officers were housed.
I’d come alone for this inquiry. It was sensitive. I didn’t want to rattle anyone unnecessarily. I also didn’t want to ring any alarm bells.
Superintendent Charlotte Long was the highest ranking armed officer in the force. She was immaculately turned out. Her dark hair tied back at the nape of her neck. There was not a trace of make-up on her face but she looked beautiful for it. She also looked as though she wasn’t about to take any shit from me and had her arms crossed in front of her.
‘This is highly unusual, DI Robbins,’ her voice was clipped. Smart. She wasn’t from around here. A transfer in.
Everything about her screamed class and yet the surroundings she was in, well, it was dark, closed in, almost dirty, she looked at odds in the square room I now faced her in. Accolades and merits framed on the wall alongside us told me she had earned her place here.
‘I’m sorry, Ma’am,’ I said, ‘the circumstances that fetch me here are themselves unusual and what I’m here to ask you, I ask with the utmost respect, but it is also with a request for discretion.’
She narrowed her eyes at me. I had no idea what this meant as I didn’t work with her. Did this mean I was to carry on or she was thinking?
I waited.
‘When an officer tells me they are talking to me with respect, it usually means the opposite.’ She paused.
The DI Hannah Robbins Series: Books 1 - 3 (Boxset) (Detective Hannah Robbins Crime Series) Page 54
