by Linda Regan
There was a few seconds silence. He’s thinking about it, Alison thought with a little rush of relief.
Then he took his elbow off the table.
“Why don’t you go fuck yourselves?” he said calmly.
***
“They’re going to get away with it,” Alison said, slumping into her office chair. “Toerag will help them load all the blame on to Johnny Gladman and Andrew Fisher, and he’ll get a nice fat fee for it.”
“Have you spoken to Millie yet?” Crowther asked Banham.
“No. I went down to the cells, but she was fast asleep. She’s had a rough time – she needs to rest. We’ll talk to her again when she wakes, and then send her home with a warning. You got her statement at the hospital.”
“Any news?” Alison asked.
Banham shook his head. “Isabelle’s a survivor,” he said, but he didn’t sound convinced.
“Let’s talk to the Gladman brothers,” Banham said with a sigh. “At least they tell the truth sometimes.”
“Chang has given us enough evidence to have you charged with importation of women for prostitution, possession of enough firearms to wipe out South London, and accessory to murder,” Banham said, settling back in his chair.
“He’s fitting me up again like he did with the drugs.” Johnny Gladman sounded resigned. “I’ve told you, Mr Banham. Chang killed my mother and set my brother up for that stabbing.”
Neither Banham nor Alison said anything.
“Felix Greene was stabbed as a warning to me.” There was desperation in his eyes. “It’s Otis’s turn next, that’s what he was telling me.” He glanced at his brother, who was hunched in the chair beside him, twisting his hands together. “Sadie lost her life for trying to help us. Chang has had me over a barrel for months because my mother owed him money – and now I’m going down for this.” He shook his dreadlocks and covered his face with his hands.
“Why would Sadie want to help you? Alison asked him.
He shook the dreadlocks again. “She was kind. We was friends. You understand about friends? Her ex-husband was a bully and I stuck up for her. That’s what friends do. She was the first real friend I ever had.”
Otis started to cry. Quite different from the boy on the estate, surrounded by a gang armed with knives and meat cleavers, Alison thought.
“Johnny, I’d really like to believe you,” Alison said. “But we need real evidence if we’re going to put Chang away. Help us get it and you can walk away. If you don’t, he’ll be the one who walks.”
Johnny shook his head. “No way. Even if I could help you, I wouldn’t. Chang’s got contacts everywhere. Even from prison he’d have us shot.”
“We can sort that,” Banham assured him. “We’ll put you in witness protection. We can change your identities and send you somewhere far away.”
Otis sat up. “Can you do that?”
“We certainly can. And we will – if you help us.”
Otis looked at his brother. “So we can live together, and go somewhere new?” he asked again.
“If you help us, we’ll help you,” Alison said. “That’s a promise.”
Otis and Johnny exchanged another look. There was doubt in their eyes, as if they still weren’t sure who they could trust. Banham sat back and tried to look relaxed. This could be the break they needed, but if he pressured the brothers any more, it might go the wrong way.
“Do it, bro. Put the bastard away.” Otis spoke quietly, but his tone conveyed the strength of his feelings about his brother’s boss.
“Yeah?” Johnny still wasn’t sure, but he was softening. “Mr Banham, what happens when we get outa here? How long before we can, like, disappear?”
It took Banham a few minutes to explain the witness protection procedure. “It’ll mean another couple of nights in the cells,” he finished, “but at least you know you’re safe there!”
The brothers consulted in whispers, then Johnny raised his head and stuck out a hand. “Deal, Mr Banham. Shake on it?”
Banham suppressed a smile as he shook Johnny Gladman’s hand. “You’ll be our star witness,” he assured him.
“OK.” Johnny took a deep breath and launched in. “When Sadie left the club on Friday, I gave her the key to Ray Adams’s garage on our block. The knife with Felix’s blood on it and the sample of crystal meth was all at her flat. She was going to go home and fetch it all, then come to you and hand it in with the key.
“She looked a bit odd when she left the club, like she’d been drugged. I think maybe Terry had given her something in a glass of water. I know Terry keeps some stuff in his room – he gives it to the girls from abroad to make them sleepy. Maybe you’ll find that?”
Alison nodded. “Toxicology report has gamma hydroxybutryate in Sadie’s system at time of death. It’s a date-rape drug.”
“How did Chang find out that Sadie had taken the gun and knife?” Banham asked.
“That was your man – Andrew Fisher. When Millie came to work in the club, she introduced Sadie to him. None of us knew he was one of Chang’s men, that’s the truth, Mr Banham. Sadie found out he was a copper – people talked to Sadie, told her things, she was a real nice person – and she told him she was going to go to the police station and asked him who she oughta talk to. Next thing Sadie was murdered.” He looked Banham in the eyes. “I was worried sick for Otis’s safety so I told him to keep away from the club, to stay at Mum’s flat, out of sight. He’s had to fend for himself.”
“Otis fends for himself quite well, from what I’ve seen,” Alison said.
“The estate gang have been looking out for me,” Otis protested. “If I had gone against them, they would have been my enemy and carved me up.”
No arguing with that, Alison thought. “Do you know who actually killed Sadie?” she asked Johnny.
“Andrew Fisher.” Johnny spoke very quietly.
“You knew all along?”
He lowered his head. “Yes. Eddie told me. He warned me it would be Otis’s turn if I tried anything stupid.”
“What about the other three victims?” Banham asked gently.
“Chang liked the idea of a serial killer after his Marilyn girls. It was Lily made him think of it, when she said she was being followed. He decided to have a couple of Marilyns killed to make you think there was a stalker. He got Ray Adams to smother Lily with a pillow, same as Andrew...” He stopped, and his throat worked as if he was swallowing down a sob. When he continued, his voice has risen in pitch. “Same as Andrew killed Sadie, then Chang told him to kill any girl he liked, just to throw you off the scent. Man, that is one sick bastard.”
“And Adams? Alison asked, already knowing the answer.
“Chang had him killed.”
“Who by?”
“Andrew shot him. Chang wanted his tongue cut out for being an informant, but Andrew wouldn’t do that. So Chang did it himself after he was dead. Cut his cock off too – sorry, miss, but that’s what he did. That was for the pervy things he did to the two girls.”
“Chang actually told you this?”
“Yeah, told me himself. I think he wanted to frighten me. It worked.”
He fell silent, and sat with his hands in his lap, staring at the floor. Otis’s eyes flicked uneasily from Alison to Banham and back again, and he nibbled at the skin around his thumbnail.
“What happens now?” he asked nervously. “When do we go to the new place?”
“Not for a little while,” Banham said, hiding a smile. “I’m afraid your brother will still have to face a charge of withholding evidence.”
Otis’s face fell. Johnny didn’t move.
“We’ll talk to the Crown Prosecution Service,” Banham continued. “When we tell them everything that’s happened to you both and who you’re helping us to put away, I wouldn’t be surprised if they decide not to pursue the charges. Then we’ll get you into witness protection, give you new identities and send you a long way away. You’ll be safe.”
Now it was J
ohnny’s turn to look nervous. “That’s what the social worker said after Mum died, when she came to see about Otis. You’ll be safe, she said. In care, she meant.”
“Better in care than with that gang on the estate. If he stays in with them, he’s heading for a criminal record.”
“I want to take care of him myself! He’s my brother, man!”
“You’ll get your chance,” Banham told him. “Now, I have another job for you. I’m going to arrange bail – don’t worry, it’s only for a few hours, and there’ll be an officer within yards of you all the time. I want Otis to go and talk to his friend Felix. If he’ll give us a statement, we’re home and dry. As it stands it’s still your word against Chang’s.”
Otis looked like a frightened rabbit. “He’ll do his best,” Johnny said.
As they walked back down the corridor Banham spoke on his phone, making arrangements to have Johnny and Otis put under surveillance.
“You reckon they’re on the level, then?” Alison asked him.
“I think so. But I’m still not a hundred percent.”
“Better make sure the surveillance on Lottie and the kids stays put, then.”
In the incident room, Millie Payne was sitting next to Crowther. A warm, fleecy, pink tracksuit top covered the top half of the red Monroe dress’s charred remains, and the rest of her was huddled under a hospital blanket. Her arms, legs and much of her face were lost under gauze bandaging the hospital staff had applied to her burns, and a strong aroma of antiseptic cream surrounded her.
“You should be resting,” Alison said gently. “You’re probably still in shock.”
“I thought I was under arrest for possession of a firearm.”
Alison looked over her shoulder at Banham. “Actually you’re quite a hero,” Alison told her with a glint in her eye. “Though you did behave irresponsibly and disobey your commanding officers.”
Millie’s attempt at a smile didn’t quite succeed. “Any news?” she asked with a sadness in her eyes that brought a lump to Alison’s throat.
“Not yet. The fire officers are still searching the building.”
“What’s happened to Andrew?”
“He’s been charged with murder,” Banham told her. “That’s ninety percent down to you.”
“We’ve got evidence that he killed Sadie Morgan and Raymond Adams,” Alison added.
“It’s not down to me.” Millie said unhappily. “I gave him an alibi. If I hadn’t gone to the club during my shift... I’ll never forgive myself for that. One mistake, and look what it leads to.”
Alison nodded. “I will have to put that in my report. And to be honest, Millie, I’m not sure you’re cut out for PCSO work.”
“I’ve been so stupid. I’m truly, truly sorry.”
“We won’t be bringing any charges,” Banham said. “You need to get some rest. I’m going to get a car to take you home.” He moved away and took out his phone again.
“Crowther took a statement from you at the hospital, didn’t he?” Alison checked.
“Yes. I told him about taking the gun from Terry’s sewing bag.”
“Terry refutes it. He said he’d never seen it before. So it’s your word against his, I’m afraid.”
Millie looked puzzled. “What about all the others?”
Alison held her breath. “What others?”
“There was a box of them in the corner of the dressing room. Under the box of red shoes. I thought you’d found them.”
“Is that in your statement?”
Millie shook her head. “Nobody asked about them. I assumed you knew.”
Alison had already picked up the nearest phone.
“We’d better take another statement,” she said to Millie when she had finished giving the instruction. “Then you can go home. You really do need to rest.”
Banham reappeared. “Did you know there’s a whole lot of press photographers and reporters outside?” he asked Millie. “They want to talk to you. I expect they want to get your picture for the paper. That’ll be good for your career, won’t it?”
“Can I go out the back way?” Millie asked.
Alison couldn’t believe her ears. “Well, yes,” she said. “But don’t you want the publicity? I thought actresses never missed a chance to get their names in the papers.”
“Not any more,” Millie said firmly. “This is my real job now. I’m taking it seriously from now on.” She paused, looking Alison in the eyes. “I want to do this full time,” she said. “I’m applying to be a WPC.”
No one spoke for a moment, then Banham said, “Good for you.”
“But you’ve got one hell of a lot to learn,” Alison added quickly.
“I know that,” Millie said. “But I’ve already learned a lot from my mistakes. Don’t you learn from yours?”
Alison was aware of Banham’s eyes on her.
“Yes,” she said. “I try to, anyway.”
Millie nodded. “I made a big one, and I’ve owned up to it.” She handed Alison an unsealed envelope. “This is my application, asking if I can train to be a full-time WPC. It needs to go to Human Resources, but you can read it first. I hope you don’t mind – I’ve put you both down for a reference.”
Chapter Eighteen
The fire was out at last, and forensic police and fire teams were in the building, searching among the debris and trying to determine how it started. Part of the cottage roof had collapsed and nearby buildings had caught the odd flying spark. The road was still cordoned off and its residents remained in temporary accommodation.
Most of the squad had been sent home, but Banham and Alison hadn’t left the office. Neither of them had slept; Alison had dropped off for less than five minutes in her tiny office, but Banham had paced the floor of the incident room willing the phone to ring.
After the interviews, Crowther had spent what remained of the night travelling between the station, the scene of the fire and the forensics lab. Tests had proved without a shadow of doubt that the unrecognisable female body belonged to the only Ukrainian who hadn’t managed to escape the fire.
Isabelle was still unaccounted for.
When Crowther arrived back at the station, he almost collided with Banham at the front door. Banham had been waiting outside the bakery on the corner when it opened, and was carrying a bag of warm croissants and a bacon roll.
In the almost deserted incident room, Alison was brewing yet more hot coffee. She poured a cup for Crowther, and Banham handed him the bacon roll, but the smell turned his stomach over. He managed to swallow a few mouthfuls of sweet coffee as he flicked through the witness statements.
“Guv, you realise we’ve got nothing concrete,” he said, flinging the folder down on the desk. “The whole CO19 op was a joke; Chang was on to us all along. That toerag Fisher gave him regular updates. He probably knew Millie was with the police before he even took her on as a lookalike. Look how he played us over the gun shipment delivery and the girls. It’ll be his word against theirs. The CPS may not even bother taking it to court.”
“He’s right,” Alison said. “Chang’s bent brief will get him bail and even if he doesn’t skip the country and we do get to court, he stands a good chance of getting off.”
Crowther slammed his empty coffee cup down. “What do we have to do? Shoot the bastard ourselves?”
Banham laid a hand on Crowther’s shoulder. “We’ll get him,” he said, with a lot more confidence than he felt.
Alison’s mobile rang.
She checked the screen. It was the DC detailed to report back from the fire scene as soon as there was any news. She switched the phone to speaker.
A team of twenty strong of forensic officers were in the building, and they now had proof that the fire had been started deliberately.
The officer took a deep breath before continuing.
“Guv,” he said. “They’ve found the third body.”
The coffee and croissants were all cold. The phones in the incident room were ringing co
nstantly with the press asking for comments; no one obliged. Nobody had spoken for about half an hour.
The charred body was confirmed as Isabelle from the watch she wore with a photo of her mother in the back; one of the forensic officers had recognised it.
The internal line rang, and this time Banham picked up. It was one of the surveillance officers detailed to keep watch on Lottie and the children. Some people had arrived at the house.
“I’m on my way,” Banham said, guiltily relieved to have something positive to do. “Keep me informed.” He clicked off him phone and looked at Alison. “Come with me?”
Lottie lived less than a mile from the station. They arrived to find her on the doorstep, with Bobby and Madeleine close behind her. Lottie was talking to Johnny Gladman, his brother Otis, another young black youth, and a tall Caribbean woman. Johnny introduced her as Mrs Greene, and the second boy as her son Felix.
“What are you doing here? Banham asked them.
Bobby pushed past his mother and looked up at his uncle. “Otis has come to say sorry for frightening me,” he said importantly. “A bad man made him write me that note. He had to do it, or else Felix would get hurt again. He said he didn’t want to do it. He doesn’t like hurting people.”
Banham put his hand on Bobby’s shoulder and looked at his sister. “Lottie, do you mind if we take this inside?” he asked. “I’m sure you can do without the neighbours taking an interest.”
Curtains were already beginning to twitch along the road, and Lottie didn’t demur. She led the way inside and closed the door behind them.
In the lounge, Lottie motioned Mrs Greene into an armchair and sat down herself, pulling Madeleine on to her knee. Everyone else stood, and Banham looked expectantly at Otis Gladman.
But it was Bobby who spoke again. “Otis said it’s going to be all right, and the bully boys will leave me alone now. He says he’s really sorry, Uncle Paul, and I believe him.”
Banham’s eyes were still focused on Otis. Bobby touched his uncle’s hand. “Felix says he’ll tell you all about the bad man, isn’t that right, Felix?”
