Greed: A DI Scott Baker Novel

by Jay Nadal

  The search of his desk threw up nothing of importance, but all the paperwork, a laptop, files and folders were bagged up and recorded for review back at the station. As they moved their attention away from his desk, Abby found a safe buried into the wall behind some garish wall art.

  “Guv, there’s a safe here, but it’s locked. We need to get this opened.”

  “Get onto control and ask them to arrange for a locksmith to attend, we need to see if there’s anything inside of interest.”

  With that, Abby left the room to make the call outside.

  As Scott moved around the office he attention turned back to the corner of the room behind the door, and a squat mirrored table set in-between two low armchairs. Moving towards the table for a closer look, he noticed that the dust wasn’t the type that had collected through a lack of cleaning. He could clearly see a light sporadic scattering of white granular powder. If his hunch was right then this was the remains of a class A substance.

  ***

  Abby was just coming off the call when Scott approached her, tapping her on the arm to get her attention.

  “Yes, Guv?”

  “Organise a dog, we’ve got some evidence of class A activity on the small table in the office. Meet me outside when you’re done.”

  ***

  Phone reception must have been intermittent in the club, because no sooner had Scott stepped outside onto the pavement, his phone buzzed in his pocket to signal a missed call and text message from Raj.

  Scott hit the redial and on the third ring, he answered.

  “Guv, we’ve searched Stone’s flat and found a black holdall at the bottom of a wardrobe in the third bedroom. Inside there’s a few large fuck off packets of white powder we believe to be class A. We’ve bagged it up and will bring it in. His missus swears blindly that she knew nothing about it.”

  “Do you believe her?”

  “Hard to say Guv, she looks mortified, but she could be putting it on.”

  “Ok Raj, good work, let’s get it tested first and once we have confirmation, we can pull her in for further questioning if needed.”

  The expectancy rose in Scott. His team now had something to work with.

  Scott relayed the news to Abby as they walked down to the seafront to visit Stone’s second club Urban on the seafront.

  The search of the second club didn’t throw up anything that raised suspicion. All paperwork on the desk had been bagged up and logged in the same way as the Phoenix. They did however notice a strong smell of cannabis in the toilets and Scott instructed Abby to get the drugs dog to check both clubs.

  ***

  Scott had suggested that they grab an early lunch so they headed off to one of Scott’s favorites, All’Angolo in East Street.

  Scott tucked into a tuna melt panini, whilst Abby picked at her spicy halloumi & roasted vegetable salad.

  “You going to be able to head off to the gym later today?” he asked.

  “Depends how we get on today, Guv. I’ve not had a chance for a few days as I had the kids this weekend. If I can’t today, then I’ll go tomorrow morning and do a couple of classes before my shift starts at two.”

  Scott raised his eyebrows and shook his head, whilst using his napkin to wipe his mouth. “Flipping hell, I just don’t know where you get the energy. One class is enough, but you do two or three classes in a row. You’re either a machine or have a screw loose,” he replied in bewilderment.

  “Oi watch it. No, it’s fine. You wouldn’t make it through circuits, you lightweight.”

  “Erm, you’ll find that I can give you a run for your money.”

  “Dream on,” laughed Abby as she tossed her head back in an exaggerated mock look of surprise. “Besides it’s my release. You know how tough our job can be. Look at last week, when we got called in to go after that armed burglar with the TDA. I came on shift at 2 p.m. on Tuesday, and finished at 1 p.m. Wednesday because we needed to get him caught, charged, off the streets and the file to CPS within twenty-four hours. I was shattered and it took me two days to get my body clock back in line.

  Going to the gym helps my mind to relax. I must admit though, it’s a tough call. Sometimes even though I want to go to the gym, I also want to be at home with the kids. I don’t see them enough as it is, and I hate having to palm them off on friends and grandparents as it is.”

  “Fair point,” said Scott shrugged.

  “As much as I love the job, Guv, it does get me down sometimes. Routine goes out of the window, the hours are unpredictable and life can get lonely. Look at how many relationships fall apart in the force; it’s the same with all the emergency services.

  Look at me, single mum, two kids I hardly see, no time for a relationship, and each month I go overdrawn on my cards. I’m hardly a good advert for the force.”

  For a brief moment Scott was washed away with his darkest memories as he thought about his family. Even though Abby was talking about the daily struggle to balance life, Scott would have given anything to have that dilemma in his life right now.

  Chapter 7

  Having spent the rest of the previous afternoon going through the myriad of messages that had flooded in from the press release in the Argus and Brighton and Hove Independent, Scott had overseen the DC’s job of separating the wheat from the chaff.

  There were a few calls from members of the public who thought they’d witnessed the incident. However, just as many seemed to call to air their gripes about crime in the town and what are the police doing about it.

  As Scott knew, all the information gathered nevertheless had to be reviewed and either followed up or dismissed as inconsequential. Any leads at this stage could offer an insight that seemed to be evading Scott and the team.

  As Raj and Sian sifted through the messages, Scott still needed to review the other eleven case files sitting in his in-tray that his team had submitted to him for a weekly review.

  With ongoing cases that included two reported rapes, one attempted rape, a death from a suspicious house fire, a person falling from the multi-storey car park in Worthing, and numerous burglaries, his team was already stretched to breaking point.

  A big case like murder meant that he would need to prioritise resources based on the likelihood of a successful conclusion and the severity of the cases. Supervising his officers, case file reviews and endless reporting to senior management meant that frustration, stress and the feeling of chasing your tail were all too common.

  ***

  The team gathered at first light for an update on the top floor of the station. The briefing room was large enough to accommodate an oval table with sixteen chairs around it. There was a large whiteboard on one wall and a sixty-inch TV at one end of the room.

  From this elevated position, there was a good view across the city centre on a clear day, but today, the clouds cast a heavy, grey and dull canopy low across the city leaving dampness in the air.

  “Guys, I know you’re all tired, and you’ve been working flat out, so let’s get this briefing wrapped up and crack on. Sian, do you want to kick off first?”

  Sian was still relatively new to her role and team. An officer for five years, a switch over to CID had always been her ambition. She was of average build, not thin or overweight, dressed conservatively opting for A-line skirts, Next blouses, and low heel court shoes, her dark brown hair always secured with a high ponytail. The look was finished off with black rimmed glasses.

  Nevertheless, she had that look about her that said sexy secretary. A woman who could who take off her glasses, let her hair down and shake it from side to side as they do in those infamous hair shampoo commercials. Voila, you’d have a voluptuous, vibrant, confident, attractive female who would turn heads as she walked down the street.

  Sian was ambitious, diligent, and hard working. Still only twenty-seven, she’d never hidden the fact that she wanted to succeed in her career and sought promotion. In his development reviews with her, he’d been impressed with her grasp of PACE, the Poli
ce and Criminal Evidence Act, the code of ethics by which the police structured their work. He’d mused that she must have swallowed the manuals whole.

  “Nothing to report. The crew at the China Garden, near where the body was found, tipped out about 12.30 a.m. and they saw nothing. No one at the hotel on the corner had anything new to shed on the situation either. The casino further up and near the club drew a blank too.

  We also checked with the residents of the apartments above the Chinese, but other than some residents complaining to us about the smell of fried food from downstairs… like we’re going to do anything about it,” she said with a shrug, “There was nothing, Guv.”

  “So nothing then. Thought that might be a long shot,” sighed Scott. “CCTV?”

  “Nope, nothing there either, Guv, nearest camera is at the top of Preston Street on Western Road, and it was pointing along Western Road, I’m afraid.”

  “Sly. Smart as well as dangerous, or just plain lucky,” Scott exhaled as he locked his hands on top of his head. “Mike?”

  Mike was caught off guard in the middle of emptying a can of Redbull, causing him to dribble the drink down his chin, much to the amusement of Raj perched on the edge of chair beside him.

  “Get this man a bib, someone,” Raj teased. Mike glared at him with embarrassment whilst giving him the middle finger, but saying nothing.

  “Forensics have come back to confirm that the bags of powder we found at Stone’s flat and the club were cocaine. There were cocaine traces on the table in Stone’s office and interestingly on many of the tables in the club. There were also traces of coke in the toilets of Urban, and marijuana trances at Urban too.”

  “Also no matching prints on the system for those found on the twenty pound notes, Guv.”

  “So it looks like they turned a blind eye to drugs in the cubs, and Stone must have known about it, or at worst, was supplying it,” Scott said. He closed his eyes as he massaged the back of his neck.

  “Could give us a motive,” piped up Sian.

  “That’s certainly a possibility.”

  “Sian, I want you to get onto the high tech unit and see if they’ve got everything off his phone. Also get onto his phone provider for phone records. Any problems with a lack of co-operation then let me know.”

  “Will do, Guv.”

  “Abby, tomorrow I want you to start checking around your drug contacts. Tug the collars of the dealers and the users to see if anyone knows about the drugs scene at the Phoenix and Urban.”

  Abby nodded in agreement.

  “Anything else worth raising?” asked Scott looking around those gathered.

  A knock on the door interrupted the meeting. Seeing the desk sergeant through the glass panels, Scott waved him in.

  “Sorry to interrupt, sir, but I thought you should know that a body’s just been found by uniformed officers in suspicious circumstances. The victim’s been stabbed through the neck.”

  “Shit.”

  Chapter 8

  The target had just parked in the residents’ parking bays after one of his many clandestine meetings. The area was poorly lit with just one solitary street light casting dim shadows. It was 2.30 a.m., the law-abiding residents of this council estate would be in bed. No one would be around to disturb this moment of avengement.

  He was evil--he needed to be dealt with.

  The killer had been watching from his carefully chosen spot in the shadows on this chilly spring night. The only clue giving him away was his breath. It was quiet, unnaturally quiet. Not many chose to walk these streets at night as they feared for their safety from marauding groups of teenagers hell bent on terrorising their neighbourhood.

  Even though the area was known to the police for its vandalism, drug dealing and the permanent smell of marijuana in the air, a policeman walking the beat was unheard of.

  Drugs dens were discreetly tucked away from prying eyes, children on bikes were employed by dealers to peddle their valuable merchandise. Using children as their drugs mules lessened their risks—and their overhead. It was business to them. They weren’t worried or concerned about the misery it caused, or the suffering it brought to the vulnerable, the dependencies it created nor the crime it created to fuel insatiable habits.

  The target was just opening the boot to his Mercedes E220 when his fate was sealed.

  The killer came from behind; he was braver and more assured of his stealth approach this time, the bravado swelling inside him. He wasn’t scared on this occasion; he was more determined to stay on the path he’d chosen and do the right thing.

  He held the gleaming blade of the dagger high above his head as he closed in on his target. The target had little time to react before he reached an arm around his head to trap him, and plunged the tip of the blade deep into his neck.

  The victims’ body reacted to the vile intrusion by rearing up defensively, the victim’s strength draining away as he thrust the blade in deeper. The victim started to fall into the open boot of his car, his left hand coming up to the site of the wound. The killer retracted the blade before plunging it in again impaling the victim’s hand in the process and pinning it to his neck.

  The victim didn’t move after that. He lay there head first slumped in the boot. The only sound to break the silence was the gurgling of blood as it escaped through the victim’s mouth through his final breaths.

  The killer, still hell-bent on meting out his own justice, twisted the blade left and right, the victim’s mutilated hand twisting and turning with the knife, the sound of wet flesh tearing from beneath the hand as the serrated edge tore and mangled the flesh.

  He withdrew the blade and wiped it on the victim’s back knowing his job was done. Globules and sinews of flesh and veins clung to the blade, a testament to the ferocity of the assault.

  With one hand the killer pulled back the victim’s head by his hair whilst forcing something into the gaping, blood-filled mouth that expressed the silent horror that had taken place just moments ago.

  As he stood there breathing rapidly, sweat beading on his forehead and creeping down the centre of his spine, he felt cold and numb. It wasn’t the cold night air that made him feel that way; it was the lack of feeling and emotion left by the dark void inside him.

  He turned and walked away, his trousers damp once again from where he’d pissed himself.

  Chapter 9

  By the time Scott and Abby arrived, the circus was in full swing. There was a hive of activity behind the blue tape cordon that been set up around the residents’ car parking in Warbleton Close on the White Hawk estate.

  It was an estate well known to the police. Due to a lack of investment in local services, broken promises from successive governments and high unemployment amongst the locals, the estate had its fair share of bad press.

  If you asked most of the residents they’d have plenty to say about how good it was living in close-knit community. However, anti-social behaviour, criminal damage and its share of violent and sexual crimes often tarnished the image of the area in the eyes of external observers, and gave the local tabloids plenty to write about.

  Scott had parked on the corner of Whitehawk Crescent behind a police panda car. A growing crowd of locals hovered, perversely curious to see what had happened during the night. After being let through the cordon by a police constable they walked towards the area where the body had been found.

  The residents’ parking was set off the street on the right-hand side about twenty yards up the street. It was a small car park that allowed residents to park up to eight cars. It was surrounded on three sides by houses and garden walls. A white tent had already been erected over the crime scene, to preserve the area and to stop the curtain twitchers from getting a good eyeful.

  Scott and Abby donned their protective suits, shower caps, gloves and masks before going any further. The crime scene officers were already meticulously examining the area, taking various photographs and documenting the evidence. There were only two other cars in the ca
r park, which were also being examined.

  To the left of the car park and on the road Scott could see Matt Allen, the crime scene manager, sitting in his car with the door open engrossed in a conversation on his mobile. As Scott and Abby approach the white tent, they were just about to open the flap, when a SOCO stepped out.

  “I hope you weren’t expecting to go inside. We haven’t finished yet,” she said in a dismissive voice that implied they were in the way.

  If Scott wasn’t pissed off, he was now, and did his hardest to bite his bottom lip. Abby could tell just by Scott’s expression that he was trying to keep a lid on the expletives that were threatening to explode from his mouth.

  “Of course we don’t want to get in your way, wouldn’t want to disturb you doing your job,” Scott said. A hint of sarcasm in his tone.

  It was hard to gauge the true reaction of the SOCO, all he could see from behind her paper suit and mask were her eyes flitting left and right between him and Abby. Her eyes finally bore down on Scott, and he could tell she was riled a bit.

  “I haven’t got all day to stand around waiting, I just want to peak in through the flap so I at least know what we’re dealing with,” Scott continued.

  The SOCO didn’t reply, but gave a cursory flick of her head to confirm that she’d given them permission to peak around the tent.

  Scott exhaled deeply. Cheeky fucker. As they peaked in through the flap, they were confronted with the lower half of a man slumped inside the boot space of a Mercedes. Within the tent, SOCO had set up arc lights to illuminate the scene more clearly. Even with it being daylight in early spring, natural light was still dull and flat.

  At this angle it was hard to see the victim’s upper torso and the injuries. With Captain Von SOCO barking orders about what they could and couldn’t do, both officers retreated for the time being.

  “Abby, can you run the plates through the system to see if we can get an ID, and I’ll have a word with Matt.”