He’s definitely rattled.
Ruth took a card from her jacket and handed it to him. ‘Mr Dudic, if you remember anything, or if on second thoughts there’s something you want to tell us, please give me a ring.’
‘Thank you,’ Safet said gesturing to the card, ‘but you’re better off giving that to my daughter.’
Ruth nodded.
RUTH AND LUCY JOINED the A3 and headed north towards London. They had said very little about their conversation with Safet Dudic. Ruth was digesting what he had told them. Why was he lying to them? Did he know about Hamzar Mujic’s sighting of Simo Petrovic?
They stopped at some traffic lights. Ruth gazed up at the sky that was darkening with clouds. She wished it wouldn’t rain. She was hoping to take Ella up to the swings on Clapham Common after nursery. Ella had only asked where ‘Daddy’ was a couple of times. Ruth explained that he was just staying with a friend. Ella shrugged. She was used to Dan’s nocturnal life and so his disappearance from their lives hadn’t struck her as anything particularly new.
‘Dudic knew, didn’t he?’ Lucy said, breaking Ruth’s train of thought.
‘About Petrovic?’
‘Yeah. He wasn’t surprised by the news that Hamzar Mujic had seen him.’
‘Not one bit. And he was terrified by the time we left.’
‘I’ve seen grief and shock before. But that wasn’t it. He was shit scared.’
‘Scared that he is going to be next?’ Lucy suggested.
Ruth shrugged. ‘Possibly. But why not tell us what he knows?’
‘Maybe he doesn’t trust the police? From what I remember, the Bosnian police were mainly Serbian. They were implicated in war crimes against Muslim civilians.’
‘That would explain it,’ Ruth said.
‘We have four ageing Bosnian Muslims who grew up in the same village. They’re all in touch with each other to varying degrees. What happens when Mujic sees Petrovic at Waterloo?’ Lucy asked.
Glancing into the wing mirror, Ruth noticed a black BMW behind them. It pulled out for a few seconds as it tried to overtake them.
‘He rings them all. He tells them who he’s seen. This is the man that ruined their lives and murdered their friends and family,’ Ruth said. She glanced back and saw that the BMW was still very close behind.
‘What’s with the BMW behind us? she asked.
‘God knows. I thought it was a boy racer with a small knob.’
Ruth smiled. ‘Usually is ... You think they decided to do something with this information about Petrovic?’
Lucy nodded. ‘Yes. Maybe they decided that they don’t trust the police with it, so they’re going to contact a journalist?’
‘That doesn’t explain the missing papers from Mujic’s flat. The stuff that had been ripped from the board,’ Ruth said. ‘He was working on something that someone didn’t want us to see.’ She looked over at Lucy. ‘They were tracking Petrovic down themselves and they were going to murder him.’
‘Except Petrovic and his cronies found out and decided to kill them all first.’
Ruth raised an eyebrow. ‘Slight problem with our theory.’
‘Which is ...?’
‘How does Petrovic find out that these ageing vigilantes are planning for his death?’
‘No idea. Maybe they asked the wrong person or went to the wrong place?’ Lucy glared in her rear-view mirror. ‘Bloody idiot! It’s a single-lane, you dickhead.’
Ruth frowned as she looked again in the wing mirror.
‘Problem?’ she asked.
‘I don’t know. This BMW has been behind us since we passed the turning to Chessington,’ Lucy said quietly.
She sounds a bit spooked.
‘Yeah, I just noticed it trying to overtake us.’ Ruth leant down to look in the wing mirror again. At that distance, she couldn’t see the driver or whether anyone else was in the car. ‘What do you think?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Pull them over?’ Ruth asked.
‘Not yet. I can’t be arsed with the paperwork.’
The road opened up onto a slip road that then joined the three lanes of the A3.
Lucy took her hand from the steering wheel and placed it onto the gear stick.
‘I think we’ll see how determined this dickhead is to piss us off,’ she said, and dropped the car down a gear.
Ruth felt the two-litre engine kick in, and the acceleration pushed her back in her seat.
‘All right, Damon Hill, be careful!’
‘Hey, you’ve seen me pursuit drive before,’ Lucy protested.
‘Exactly ... be careful.’
Lucy revved the engine. ‘You mean like this?’
Suddenly, she pulled the Astra out into the middle lane of the by-pass.
Ruth felt herself jolted in her seat. ‘Yes, exactly like that.’
‘Are they following us? I can’t see,’ Lucy said anxiously.
Ruth spun around. The black BMW had overtaken a lorry and had now followed them into the middle lane.
‘They’re right behind us again!’ Ruth said in a tremulous voice.
‘Shit! This is the wrong way round isn’t it?’
‘You mean we chase criminals, we don’t get chased?’ Ruth started to feel the tension in her stomach.
‘What do you want, you dickheads?’ Lucy yelled as she glared into the rear-view mirror.
It was starting to worry Ruth. Her palms were starting to feel sweaty.
Are we actually being chased?
‘I can’t see the driver, can you?’ she asked.
‘No. I think the windscreen is tinted because I can’t see anything.’
‘Isn’t that illegal?’
‘Very.’
‘Can you see the plate then?’ Ruth asked.
‘Not really,’ Lucy said, ‘but I think it’s foreign.’
Ruth clicked the Tetra radio. ‘Control from alpha zero. We have a suspect vehicle tailing us. Northbound on the A3, about ten miles from Kingston Upon Thames. I’m going to need back up and a PNC check.’
‘Alpha zero, received. Standing by,’ the CAD, Computer Aided Dispatch, operator said.
Lucy was staring in the rear-view mirror. ‘Right, sunshine, I’ve had enough of your stupid little games now,’ she growled as she took the car up to ninety. Then to just below a hundred.
‘Careful,’ Ruth said under her breath. She had never been a fan of speed.
They hit a bend. Ruth felt herself being pushed hard towards the passenger door. She gripped the seat and grimaced. They flew past a road sign. The car edged over a hundred miles an hour.
The BMW was closer than ever.
‘I can see some of the plate now,’ Lucy said.
‘I think it might be a bit late for that.’
Ruth glanced in the wing mirror. The black BMW was only about twenty yards behind.
Fuck! This is not good.
‘What the bloody hell do they want?’ she said.
‘Maybe they want to scare us.’
‘Well, they’re doing a bloody good job.’
‘Plate is just numbers. Three numbers, then another three,’ Lucy said.
I’m not interested. I just want to get out of the car in one piece, thank you.
They hurtled around a long bend. Ruth felt the Astra’s back tyres skid. They were going too fast.
‘Lucy ...’ Ruth said in a cautionary tone.
‘What?’ Lucy barked at her.
Ruth glanced back again. There couldn’t have been more than three or four feet between the cars.
I do not want to die today.
‘They’re going to go into the back of us or ram us off the road!’ Ruth said nervously.
‘Hang on!’
‘Why?’ Ruth said with a gulp.
‘Just hang on! No one is ramming us off the road today!’
Lucy swerved the car left into the middle lane. She then started to brake hard, but not hard enough to skid out of control.
Bloody h
ell!
Ruth clung on for dear life as the smell of burning rubber filled the car.
For a moment, she closed her eyes.
The manoeuvre had the desired effect. The BMW had continued its speed and was now a good two hundred yards ahead of them.
Slowing more, Lucy pulled the car right over into the inside lane.
‘They’re not slowing down,’ she remarked.
Ruth took a breath as she watched the BMW continue to race away around the bend and out of sight.
‘Thank God,’ Ruth sighed.
‘Bastards!’
Ruth’s heart was pounding. ‘What the bloody hell was that all about?’
‘No idea. Wankers.’
‘Did the plate have a D in the middle of the six numbers?’ Ruth asked.
‘I don’t know, why?’
‘I’ve just remembered what that means.’
‘Which is?’
‘It’s a diplomatic plate. Three numbers, a letter D, then three more numbers. Did you see the first three numbers?’
‘No, why?’ Lucy asked.
‘It’s the country code.’
‘Why are we being hounded by a car with diplomatic plates?
‘No idea.’
As Lucy picked up to a normal speed, Ruth felt her pulse beginning to slow.
‘You think that was connected?’ she asked after a few minutes.
‘To Petrovic? I don’t know. But if someone was trying to warn us off, they can go and fuck themselves,’ Lucy said with a determined look on her face.
CHAPTER 18
Having drunk half a bottle of wine to take the anxious edge off the day, Ruth lay down next to Ella on her bed. The evening was warm, and Ella’s bedroom was cosy and dimly lit. She began to read her The Tiger Who Came to Tea by Judith Kerr. She loved the story and remembered reading it to her younger brother when he was little. It was so simple, yet she found the mother and daughter’s trusting nature - and the fact that they allowed the tiger to wreak havoc in their house - disturbing. Maybe it was just the kind of mood she was in.
When she got to the part about the family going out for a tea of sausages and chips, and then ice cream, Ella looked at her.
‘Can we have that Mummy?’ she asked.
‘You don’t like sausages,’ Ruth said gently. Ella was extremely fussy when it came to food. Ruth was often jealous when she heard what other mothers had managed to get their children to eat. It made her feel inadequate.
‘I do. I like sausages, silly.’
‘Okay. So, you want sausages, chips, and then ice cream for tea tomorrow?’ Ruth asked with a smile.
‘And ketchup.’
Ruth pulled a face. ‘Eww. You want ketchup on your ice cream?’
Ella scowled at her. ‘Mummy!’
‘Sorry. How about Green Eggs And Ham?’ Ruth asked. They both loved Dr Seuss books.
For the next ten minutes, Ruth read through the surreal rhymes from the book and by the time she had stopped reading, Ella had fallen asleep. For a while, Ruth just watched her. Her tiny hands on the pink pillow. Her chest moving up and down with the slightest of movement.
Gazing up at the ceiling, Ruth watched the tiny pink lights that moved gently, interweaving with each other hypnotically. She drifted off to sleep.
Suddenly, she was aware of a noise as she came out of her dream. The sound of a key in the front door. It must be Dan. He still had a few boxes of records to collect and, unfortunately, she had forgotten to take his key from him.
Maybe I should just stay here and pretend to be asleep. I really don’t have the energy for a row.
The noise at the front door continued. It sounded as if someone was trying to jiggle a key, but it wouldn’t fit into the lock. She knew what it was. When Dan was drunk or stoned, he had a habit of trying a variety of keys in the front door until he found the right one. Depending on what state he was in, it sometimes took him ages.
Fuck him! I’m not letting him in. Especially if he’s off his head.
The noise continued.
Ruth found herself becoming increasingly irritated. She leapt up from the bed. Pacing out into the hallway, she went to the front door.
She could see Dan’s shadowy figure behind the frosted glass.
‘Why can’t you just remember to use the right key?’ Ruth called out loudly in total exasperation.
The noise stopped.
‘If I let you in, I want you to take your stuff and go. I’m not prepared to discuss anything with you. It’s too late.’ She put her hand on the lock.
Then something about the shadowy figure behind the glass made her stop.
That doesn’t look like Dan. Much taller.
Ruth’s heart was in her mouth.
Suddenly, the figure disappeared.
There was the distinct sound of footsteps walking away.
Then nothing.
She waited, holding her breath.
Who the hell was that?
Her pulse started to race.
She waited another minute.
Spotting a screwdriver that she had left when putting up the hall mirror, she grabbed it.
Anyone comes at me, and this goes into their eye!
She listened again.
Nothing.
Opening the door, she prepared to stab anyone who was out there.
There was no one.
What the hell is going on?
A strong wind rattled the leaves and branches on the tree which towered above the pavement.
Ruth looked into the darkness of the front patio. The streetlight cast long shadows across the front of the house.
I’m officially spooked.
She walked down the path, glancing left and right. There was no one to be seen.
Was that Dan?
She went back to the door and looked at the Yale lock that was just about level with her chin. Peering closer, she spotted something. One of the screws that had held the lock in place was gone, and the other was half out as if someone had been unscrewing it.
Ruth’s stomach lurched.
Someone had tried to get into her flat.
With her heart starting to beat heavily, she took a breath.
Surely, she would have noticed before if the screw from the lock on her front door had gone.
Now in a panic, she remembered that when she’d taken Ella to bed she hadn’t locked the door that leads from the kitchen out to the back garden.
Slamming the front door behind her, she sprinted through the flat to the kitchen. She reached the glass door and locked it quickly.
Staring out into the darkness, she tried to see if there was anything or anyone out there.
It was too dark.
Feeling shaken, she pulled the curtains, making sure there were no gaps. She took her phone and rang Dan’s number.
‘Hi Ruth,’ he said in a slightly suspicious tone.
‘Hi Dan. Where are you?’
‘Erm, Camden. Why? Is there a problem? Is it Ella?’ he asked.
‘No, no. It’s nothing. Honestly. I’m just moving stuff around the flat and wanted to know when you were going to come and get the rest of your records?’
‘Oh, right. I’ll pick them up tomorrow. Is that it?’
‘Yes. There’s something wrong with the lock so I’ll have to let you in. Come after five.’
‘Fine. I’ll see you then.’
Ruth hung up and sat down on the sofa. She was starting to feel incredibly scared about what had just happened.
Brooks and Lucy lay breathless in bed at her home. Pulling the sheet up around her, Lucy sat up against the pillows.
Brooks swung his legs out of the bed and made his way across the bedroom.
‘You know, you’ve got a really tight arse for an old man,’ Lucy said with a grin.
‘I’m not old,’ he protested.
‘Forty-five is officially kicking on a bit, Harry,’ she joked, as she watched him grab a towel and wrap it around his waist like a skirt.
‘Ooh. Vodka and something sounds good. If you drink too many then you’ll have to stay here,’ Lucy said hopefully. She really did wish that she could wake up next to him just once.
She watched him leave the room, then got up and put on a green patterned kimono. She had decided to come clean. She had told him earlier about the incident with the BMW. Brooks didn’t like the sound of it and said he would have a quiet word with traffic to see if they could track down the BMW for him.
‘Where do you keep the vodka?’ he called from the kitchen.
‘In the freezer,’ Lucy said as she joined him. She put her hands on his hips for a second. ‘You don’t have to cover up for me, Harry. I’m happy for you to wander around my flat as free as a bird.’
He pointed to the windows. ‘Yeah, but I don’t want anyone else getting an eyeful. They might get jealous.’
Lucy laughed. ‘Oh, would they? Don’t worry, I don’t get many people sneaking around the house, peeping in at my windows.’
‘Glad to hear it,’ he said as he poured out the iced vodkas and handed one to her.
Lucy took a sip of her vodka, opened the back door, and stepped out onto her patio. The air was still warm and full of the perfume of spring blossom. Above, the moon was bright, its beams spilling across the garden in a blueish hue.
‘This is nice,’ Lucy said taking in more fresh air.
Brooks took a few steps across the garden. ‘We’ll have to do it alfresco next time.’
‘You kinky bugger.’
He looked over towards the patio doors. ‘That’s a shame. You’ve smashed that flowerpot I bought you.’
Lucy frowned. ‘No. I haven’t.’
He walked over and crouched down on the patio. Lucy joined him and saw that the pot was on its side and now lay in pieces.
‘Yeah, well I definitely didn’t do that,’ she said, feeling a little spooked.
‘Are you sure?’ he asked as he continued to look.
‘Of course I’m sure, Harry! I haven’t got bloody dementia, have I? Maybe it was a cat or a fox.’
‘Only if the cat or fox wears size ten boots,’ he said, pointing to a footprint on the soil that had spilled onto the patio from the pot.
Diary of a War Crime Page 12
