DI Lorne Simpkins 08 - Hostile Justice

by M A Comley

“I’m trying to track down all the relevant CCTV discs first, then I’ll go through them one by one. I have a feeling this is going to keep me tied up for days.”

  “You think? I’ll be right back.” She left her colleague and went in the office to find Katy. “I rang my journo friend—no help there, I’m afraid.”

  “That’s a shame. What is it with this case? Why is it proving to be so frustrating?”

  Lorne shrugged. “That’s what leads me to think that we’re not simply dealing with a one off here. The murderers knew what they were doing when they decapitated the victim. Actually, I’m surprised they didn’t chop off her fingers as well. Maybe they knew her fingerprints couldn’t be matched up on the database.”

  “Because she’s foreign? Or because the woman has no record?”

  “Either. If we knew the answer to that it would prove helpful, I’m sure. I’ve just had a word with AJ about the CCTV footage, and if you don’t have anything else planned for me, I’d like to give him a hand. Otherwise he’s going to be at it for days.”

  “Sure, that makes sense. I’ll get rid of this lot and catch up with you in an hour or so.” Katy pointed to the pile of unopened letters lying on the desk in front of her.

  • • •

  Halfway through the morning, AJ asked Lorne to view something on his monitor. “What do you think?”

  “Can you zoom in?”

  “I’ve tried, that’s as far as it’ll go.”

  Lorne thought back to the clothing the victim wore the day she died. “It looks similar to what she was wearing…‌not entirely convinced though, AJ, are you?”

  “No, that’s why I wanted your opinion. I’ll make a note and carry on, I can always come back.”

  “Maybe she’ll pop up again later.” Lorne returned to her seat and continued searching the discs in her possession. The phone rang, interrupting her. “Hello,” she answered distractedly.

  “DS Warner?”

  “Yes? To whom am I speaking?”

  “Um…‌I’m Shirley Harris.”

  “And what can I do for you, Ms. Harris?” Detecting uncertainty in the woman’s voice, Lorne stopped what she was doing and gave the woman her full attention.

  “It’s about the case that was on TV. I overheard something the other day that might be of interest to you.”

  “Overheard where?”

  “Sorry, I’m not making myself very clear, am I? I work in a pub, behind the bar.”

  “Okay, what did you overhear?”

  “I think it would be better to see you in person. The information is kind of sensitive.”

  Lorne picked up her pen and pulled a scrap piece of paper in front of her. “Where and when?”

  “I work at the Barrel Inn. I’ll be on duty until three today. I’d rather see you here than at home, if that’s all right?”

  “Sure. Can I drop by and see you now?”

  “Oh, yes…‌okay, I’ll clear it with my boss to take a five-minute break when you get here. It’s quiet until about noon anyway.”

  “I’ll see you soon, Ms. Harris.”

  “What was that about?” Katy asked, coming out of her office at that moment.

  “Fancy a pub lunch?”

  Confused Katy looked at her watch. “It’s only eleven o’clock.”

  “Yeah, I know. Come on, I’ll explain on the way.” Lorne patted AJ on the shoulder as she passed by. “I’ll be back soon. Keep up the good work.”

  “It’s all right for some to take a breather; meanwhile, I’ll be bog-eyed by the end of the day,” AJ grumbled behind them.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  When they arrived at the Barrel Inn, the car park was virtually empty. The pub was showing signs of disrepair around the windows and on the building’s façade.

  “Let’s hope it’s not as bleak inside as out,” Katy remarked as they made their way around the side of the pub and entered the public bar entrance.

  “Yikes. Maybe we should have gone in the other door to the lounge bar.”

  “We’re here now. Let’s see what the barmaid recommends.”

  Lorne rapped the bar with her knuckles and a slightly built, blonde woman, not your stereotypical busty barmaid, appeared within seconds. “Ms. Harris?”

  “That’s right. I take it you’re the person I spoke to earlier.”

  “Can we chat here? Or is there a room out back we can use?”

  “Here’s fine. The regulars don’t start filtering in until around ten to twelve. Can I get you ladies a drink first?”

  “Orange juice, thanks,” Lorne answered for both of them. The woman disappeared through a tiny corridor and came back with three glasses of orange juice and placed them on the table nearest the window.

  “The boss agreed to me having five minutes out.”

  “This is my boss, DI Foster. What can you tell us, Ms. Harris?”

  “I saw the programme the other night, always watch it when I get an evening off in case I stumble across anything I can shed light on. We hear and see quite a lot of dodgy dealings in here, as you can imagine. Most of it is harmless, not enough to concern you guys with, but this particular incident I fear can’t be put in the same category.”

  “Okay, what did you see or hear?” Lorne asked, taking a sip from her glass.

  “This happened a couple of weeks ago. I’m sorry I didn’t report it back then, but I just thought the guys were bluffing—you know, we get a lot of blokes shooting their mouths off just for one-upmanship, that kind of thing. It wasn’t until I saw the programme that something clicked. I’ve been mulling it over for days, wondering if I should call the station or not.”

  “We appreciate the call. We never discount any information on an open case. Tell us what you know, if you will?” Katy said with a smile.

  “About a fortnight ago, these two guys came in. They ordered their drinks and then started to whisper something. I pretended to clean the shelves close by so that I could listen. Barmaids are notoriously nosey people. Anyway, it turns out that I didn’t have to strain too much because their voices grew louder as the conversation went on, though I’m sure they didn’t realise it at the time.”

  “Interesting. These men, were they British or foreign?” Lorne enquired.

  “Oh, definitely foreigners.”

  Katy frowned. “But they spoke in English?”

  “Yes, absolutely, they did. I wouldn’t have been able to understand them otherwise.”

  “Maybe they’re from different countries. Sorry, go on,” Lorne urged the barmaid.

  “They were going on about attacking someone, and then I heard a warehouse mentioned. I immediately put two and two together when I saw the programme.”

  Lorne’s hopes shot up. “Did you hear any names? Did they refer to each other by name? Or perhaps they let the victim’s name slip? Anything?”

  “No, not that I can remember.”

  “Have you seen these men in here before, or in the two weeks since?”

  The barmaid shook her head. “No, not since. Before that day, I remember seeing them in here with another gentleman. I’ve not seen hide nor hair of him since, either.”

  Lorne and Katy exchanged optimistic glances. “Did they look as though they knew each other, like they were old friends? Or did you get the impression that they had just met?”

  “I couldn’t really tell. The two guys were smiling a lot at the other man, but he was fairly standoffish towards them. That’s how I read it anyway.”

  “When you say smiling, what exactly do you mean? As if they were eagerly listening to the man?” Lorne queried.

  “What are you getting at, Lorne?” Katy asked.

  “I was wondering if it was some kind of hit. Maybe this man arranged to meet these two men here with the intention of bumping the woman off. Perhaps he paid them to do the job.” Lorne asked the barmaid, “Did you see any money exchange hands? An envelope or something, when the three of them met?”

  “No. At the time, I didn’t really pay much att
ention to them.”

  “I understand. Tell me, could you pick out either of these men in a line-up?”

  “I think so. Definitely the two guys, not so sure about the one in the suit though.”

  “I don’t suppose you overheard the man in the suit talking? To know whether he was British or had a foreign accent?” Lorne asked.

  “Sorry, no, I didn’t get close enough to hear them talk that time.”

  “How long did the meeting last?”

  The barmaid thought for a second or two. “About ten minutes…‌yeah, ten minutes tops. They went their separate ways then. Saying that, I mean, the suited man left the other two here, drinking.”

  “And what was their reaction when the other man left?”

  “They were high-fiving each other a lot and bought several more rounds before they left.”

  “Okay, that’s really helpful. Can I ask a favour?” Lorne asked, smiling at the barmaid who nodded in response. “Can you give us a ring if these guys turn up again, any of them?”

  The barmaid shifted nervously in her seat. “I don’t want any trouble. I have a young son at home.”

  “I understand. We’ll be discreet. I can’t emphasise enough how important it is to get them off the streets, for all of our safety. Right?” Ms. Harris nodded reluctantly. “Okay.”

  Lorne and Katy left the pub after finishing their drinks. “So much for promising me a pub lunch.” Katy’s mouth dropped at the sides.

  “You’d seriously have to be desperate to eat in that dump.” Lorne chuckled. “I’ll buy you a Subway instead, how’s that?”

  Katy unlocked the car, and they climbed in. Katy harrumphed, “It’ll have to do.”

  Lorne shot out of the car to buy the rolls, and they ate them in a nearby car park. Finishing her first mouthful, Lorne asked, “Did you ring the dive team?”

  “Yes, this morning. They discovered the weapon, turned out to be more than just a knife. It was a machete.”

  “Christ, how awful. Any prints?” Lorne’s stomach started rejecting the roll she was eating. She tucked the remainder of it in the paper bag and opened her bottle of Diet Coke to take a sip.

  “Not hungry? And no, the handle had been wiped clean. Nothing at all on it, no blood or prints.”

  “Gone off my food all of a sudden. Maybe Patti can find something—you know, in between the handle and the blade. Not that it really matters. We know it’s the knife used in the murder, and we have a cast-iron witness who will attest to that.”

  “Ain’t that the truth? Shall we head back to the station?” Katy eyed Lorne’s sandwich bag.

  “Yeah, the sooner I get back to helping AJ with the CCTV footage the better. Wonder if he’s found anything while we’ve been out?”

  • • •

  AJ was looking pretty pleased with himself when they walked through the doors to the incident room. “All right, puddy cat, where’s the cream?” Lorne smiled, her own excitement bubbling within.

  He pointed to his monitor. Both Lorne and Katy leaned over his shoulders. “What are we supposed to be looking at?” Katy asked impatiently.

  Lorne pointed to the right hand side of the screen. “There. That’s the woman, I’m sure it is.”

  AJ nodded vigorously. “Yep, that’s my take on it too, Lorne. I’ve only just found a decent picture of her. I’m about to trawl back through the discs, now that I have a definite time to go by.”

  Lorne patted AJ on the shoulder. “I’ll be with you in a second or two. I want a word with Karen first.”

  Katy moved towards her office and called back. “I’ve got some boring paperwork to do. I’ll leave everything in your capable hands, Lorne. Let me know if anything significant jumps out, okay?”

  “Will do. It’ll probably be hours before we’re able to start piecing things together.” Lorne went over to her colleague’s desk. Karen gathered a few sheets of paper and held them out to Lorne as she approached.

  “This is all I’ve managed to find out. It’s as we thought—trading standards has the authority to charge someone if they deem them as a trader. The thing is, it’s hard to keep track of these guys as they aren’t regulars, and most of them don’t buy the licences needed to trade either at car boots or on the local markets.”

  “Maybe we could get some uniforms to turn up at these car boots now and again. If nothing else, it’d probably frighten the crap out of these guys, make them think twice about trying to scam the general public.”

  Karen shrugged. “I think our boys do patrol these events now and then; however, there’s a limit to how many they can attend in one area on the same day. Most of them take place on Sundays, and you know what staffing levels are like then.”

  “Point taken. Can you do me a favour and check the database, see if we have a list of names who’ve been arrested in the past for this type of crime. It’d be a start. I’m going to chase up the pathologist later. Maybe she can make a connection to another case and throw up a possible name of interest.” Karen gave a thumbs-up without looking away from the file in front of her. Lorne headed to her desk to call Pathology. “It’s DS Warner calling. Patti, please.”

  “I think she’s just finishing a PM. Hold the line a moment, Sergeant.”

  Not long after, Patti answered the phone. “Hi, I was going to call you later. How are things progressing?”

  “Funny, I was about to ask you the same thing. We’re kind of stumped until you reveal your findings, if you have any. Please say you do.”

  Patti let out a heavy sigh. “I don’t have that much, but some. Okay, which case do you want to deal with first?”

  “Let’s start with Charlie’s friend, Wendy.”

  “Let me get my notes.” There was a rustling noise of paper as Patti turned the pages. “Ah, yes, not very pleasant. Here goes…‌we ran tests on the traces of vodka we discovered at the scene and found some surprising results. Well, it surprised me at least. Maybe it won’t come as a surprise to you.”

  “Patti, you’re waffling.”

  “Ah yes, so I am. I found antifreeze and traces of bleach.”

  “What? Holy crap. What the fuck is wrong with these people?”

  “That was my first thought too, Lorne. It’s disgusting the lengths some of these gangs will go to in order to make a profit. We see drinks like this frequently watered down but not often with these kinds of chemicals.”

  “I really don’t know what to say. Have you found any connections to any other cases you’ve worked on, say in the last six months or so?”

  “As it happens, yes. Unfortunately, the victims were both living on the streets and without identification. Not sure that’s a great help to you.”

  “Can you tell me when the other deaths occurred? Maybe that’ll tell us something.”

  “Let’s see, I made a note of it; I’m sure I did.” More paper rustling. “Ah, here we go. Both cases turned up on my desk, so to speak, within the last few months, March and April specifically.”

  Lorne jotted down the findings and circled them. “Anything else regarding this case before we move on to the other one?”

  “No, that’s it for that one. Regarding the weapon, the machete found in the river, I managed to locate a tiny piece of flesh at the bottom of the blade going into the handle. I’ve run the appropriate tests, and yes, the sample matches the headless Jane Doe.”

  “Well, that’s good news. We’re searching through CCTV now and think we’ve just picked out the woman. We’re tracking routes, et cetera, now. It could take days though. However, we’ve got a witness to the murder, sort of.”

  “That’s excellent. Why the hesitation?”

  “He was nothing more than a driver. Two men abducted the woman and took her to the warehouse, and he stayed outside in the car. So he didn’t actually see the murder, despite being at the scene, if she actually lost her life inside the warehouse and not in the back of the car when they attacked her.”

  “That’s as good as, surely? And this man is willing to
give you the other men’s names?”

  “That’s just it. He has no idea what their names are or where they’re from. He’s Polish, an illegal immigrant. We have him tucked away in a safe house for now.”

  “So the likelihood is that the murderers are also foreign. Gosh, this government, and the last for that matter, really have a lot to answer for, don’t they? They open the doors wide and struggle to keep up with who they’re letting into the country. The crime rate is escalating daily, the murder rate is going through the roof. The problem is the countries these immigrants are coming from have a tendency to treat death lightly. They’re used to living in war zones with body counts in the hundreds of thousands. Pfft…‌what’s another body to add to the count?”

  “All right, Patti, calm down. I know you’re right in what you’re saying, but there’s very little we can do to correct the problem.”

  “Yep, you’ve hit the nail there. All we can do is clear up the fuckers’ mess.”

  Lorne eased the tension by laughing. “By fuckers, I take it you mean the immigrants and not the government?”

  “Oops, it did come across like that a bit. Thinking about it, I was right in the first place, all of them are fuckers. Don’t get me started on the way these people treat women for god’s sake…‌well, it’s just appalling.”

  “I have to disagree about that in this witness’s case. Marcin’s first thought before he gave us any information was for the safety of his wife and two children.”

  “Well, he’s in the minority. I can guarantee you that.”

  “You’re probably right. Okay, if there’s nothing else, I better get back to it.”

  “That’s all I have at this moment, Lorne. I’ll ring you if we find anything else.”

  “Likewise.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Lorne pulled up a chair next to AJ. She’d decided it would be better to work together, both watching the same screen. A few hours later, in total they’d spotted the woman on four separate occasions—getting off two different buses, once when she arrived at the coach station and the last time was when she had been accompanied, rather had been restrained, by two men in hoodies. It looked like the woman had very little option but to accompany the men willingly.