‘Nothing I can see. Those photos were probably done a while back.’
‘That PC on standby?’
‘Nope.’ Hayward pulled the plugs out from the wall. ‘We’ll take it.’
‘Darn. Was at least hoping for a look at the desktop.’
Yanking the plugs from the wall was standard procedure for seizing computers for two reasons. Computer examinations required formal authorities from senior officers. If eager officers browsed computer files prior to obtaining the authority to do so, they could render the search inadmissible and face disciplinary action. Another reason to pull the plug was, if the owner was savvy enough, there was always the possibility they’d installed a programme that would trigger a system-wide delete should the computer be turned on or woken from sleep using an incorrect method. Terabytes of evidence could disappear with one wrong push of a button. ‘Happy to kick a door in, but not nose around a computer? I’m disappointed.’
‘Oh no, no, no. I learnt that lesson the hard way.’
Joel wondered what he meant, but knew it if was something worth bragging about, Hayward wouldn’t have needed encouragement to do so. ‘These books are old novels, most of which don’t look like they’ve been read in a while. They’re covered in dust.’ Joel took a closer look at the edge of the shelves. On the third shelf down was a smattering of white powder. ‘Sarah mention any suspected drug use?’
‘Not to me, but then she doesn’t really speak to me. What have you got?’
‘White powder on the shelf.’
‘Look anything like this?’ Hayward held up a transparent plastic bag containing five or six smaller bags, all filled with white powder.
‘I’d say so.’
‘In the top desk drawer. Elderly, crazy, drugged-up psychopath with a poison fetish. Can’t wait to see the headlines they come up with.’
‘This room’s out of character with the rest of the house.’
‘You mean, there aren’t half-melted photographs anywhere else? Good spot, Detective.’
‘No, not that, although it explains why it’s the only locked room. The rest of the house is immaculately decorated, full of furniture sets and matching colour schemes.’
‘Funny you’d notice that.’
‘And this is just a chair, unused books and a PC. The only computer in the house, the only modern technology anywhere to be found.’ Joel walked over and took a look at the keyboard. ‘A computer with very little dust on it.’
‘You think she spent her time locked away up here surfing porn sites?’ Hayward chuckled and crouched down to open the bottom desk drawer. He looked uncomfortable, as if he may topple over if given just a little nudge.
‘No. Not porn sites.’ Joel thought about last night’s conversation and wondered, with Valerie poisoning Sarah’s husband, would anything on this computer connect them, like a history of visiting True Connections.
Hayward stood up and wheezed like a re-inflating balloon. He held up a white envelope with a name written on it in black ink. ‘Eric. Who’s Eric?’
The fresh air helped, although the smell of Dales’s cigarette took some of it away. He stood by the side of the emergency doors and stubbed the butt out on the ground when he saw her.
‘He’s going to be okay. He has to stay in for a while. I can’t speak to him just yet. Valerie didn’t make it. And, Ricky, one of Mark’s workmates, didn’t pull through either.’ Valerie’s death tinged her happiness and relief. It made her feel ungrateful. She’d been moments from losing her husband and wouldn’t trade his health for anything. Still, she’d wanted to question her. Wanted to find out the reasons behind it all and feared she never would. ‘The doctor said the symptoms are consistent with strychnine. The same poison used to murder Sheila, just in higher doses. Has Semples been talking?’
‘He’s mostly mumbling in the back of the car. The news is going to devastate him.’ Dales' tone suggested he didn't want to be the one to tell him.
‘Want me to break the news?’
‘If you wouldn’t mind. I’ve updated Manford, he’s alerting the Major Crime Team. The scene is sealed over at the Oxlaine. Hayward and Joel are searching her house. Manford suggested you take the rest of the day off.’
‘That’s good advice. Think I’m likely to take it?’
‘Absolutely not.’
‘Let’s get Semples back to the nick and find out what he knows.’ Sarah sat in the driver’s seat and turned around to see Valerie’s devoted friend, sobbing into his handkerchief in the backseat.
‘How’s my Valerie? Back on her feet, giving the poor nurses hell in there?’
‘Mr Semples, I’m sorry to tell you, Valerie passed away.’
Semples hands shook as he cried.
‘Do you want to see her?’ Sarah wanted to speak to Semples as soon as possible, but wasn’t about to restrict his last moments with his friend, no matter what she’d done.
‘No. No. I don’t want to remember her lying on a hospital bed. She’s not what you think. You don’t know her, you can’t judge.’
‘Well, maybe you can tell us all about her once we get back to the station.’
‘Yes, yes.’
Sarah started the car. They drove back in silence, letting the events of the day settle in. Dales’ phone rang as they turned into the station car park.
‘Dales. Hello. Now? At Moretti’s place? What’s she look like? Thanks for letting me know.’ He hung up. ‘That was the surveillance team. A woman matching Leilani’s description is banging on Moretti’s door, screaming that she’s going to kill her.’
Sarah turned the car around. ‘Take Semples inside, I’ll head over.’
Dales coaxed Semples out of the car. Sarah accelerated out of the nick and towards Tower Road.
Twenty-Five
‘Let me in. Let me in or I’ll fucking kill you.’ Leilani screamed and thumped the door.
Moretti looked down from the upstairs window and froze when Sarah opened the gate. Leilani turned around. ‘Well, I’m glad you’re here. I’d like to report a kidnapping.’ Leilani pushed her ruffled hair back and smiled. She stepped towards Sarah and pointed up at the window. ‘Arrest that crazy bitch.’
‘Leilani Hayes, you’re under arrest for the blackmail of Joel Johnson.’ Sarah took out her cuffs with her left hand and took hold of Leilani’s wrist with her right.
‘Joel Johnson?’ Her calm, confident demeanour dropped along with her smile. She spat her words out. ‘Joel Johnson knows what he did. I’m sure he charmed his way past you with a pack of lies.’ Leilani tried pulling her arm away with a look of disbelief that anyone dared handle her this way. ‘One call will sort out our Joel Johnson problem.’
Leilani reached into her pocket with her free hand and pulled out her phone. Sarah bladed her left hand, twisted it bottom side up and reached underneath Leilani’s right armpit. She rolled Leilani’s shoulder, bending her forward. The phone hit the ground and the screen smashed. Sarah heard a female voice on the other end. ‘Hello? Hello? You okay?’
Leilani tried to pull away. Sarah swept her legs and slammed her to the ground. She ratcheted her cuffs, pinned her wrists to the small of her back and wrapped them in cold metal.
‘Stupid bitch. You’ve got no idea what you’re doing. You’re wasting your time with me. The real criminal is in there.’
‘You do not have to say anything. And, quite frankly, I’d prefer it if you didn’t.’ It wasn't quite the official police caution, but Sarah felt it suited best how she felt about the situation.
Sirens wailed as the response unit arrived. Sarah stayed crouched with her knee in Leilani’s shoulder until the uniformed officer took over the position. Leilani was still wriggling, but her venom wouldn’t last much longer.
‘Could you run her back to the nick for me? Book her in for threats to kill Sally-Anne Moretti, for now. I'll fill custody in on the full details when I get back.’
The officer stood Leilani up and searched her, producing a flick knife from her waistb
and, before walking her to the rear of her police vehicle.
Moretti opened her front door. ‘Thanks. Didn’t think she’d ever get lost. You look like shit.’
‘Thanks, Sally-anne. Nice to see you again too.’ Sarah had rubbed off most of the makeup that had survived the tears, but it seemed that wasn’t enough to escape Moretti’s keen sense of what a terrible day looked like. ‘We need to talk.’ A large, black leather duffel bag packed to burst, a trolley bag, a rucksack and a child-sized backpack stood stacked just inside the door. ‘Planning a trip? Not too long, I hope.’
‘It’s mostly kid’s toys.’ She tapped the duffel bag. ‘The little guy has expensive taste.’
Moretti stood straight and rigid as if expecting Sarah to launch at her. It was a reaction learned from years of dealing with the heavy-handed drug squads and cocksure response officers. Sarah didn’t move.
‘Give me a minute.’ She closed the door. Sarah heard her say, ‘Go upstairs. Don’t come down until I call you, okay honey?’ The door opened again and she waved Sarah in.
The lounge was almost empty. The furnishings remained, just enough to rent it out. The decorations had been taken down and the toys that littered the floor had gone. The space where the big TV stand had been left a mark on the carpet and the walls were bare.
‘Now, I know that TV isn’t crammed into one of those bags,’ said Sarah, noticing how plain and ordinary her living arrangements felt now the rooms were empty and the hallmarks of fine living had gone.
‘I needed to make a quick buck. When you grew up the way I did, you end up knowing a fair few people who can shift high-value stuff quickly and with minimal hassle.’
‘I bet they had a field day in here.’
‘They’re not all bad, you know.’
‘Where’d all that inheritance go?’
‘All good things come to an end.’ Moretti shrugged.
‘Where are you planning on going?’
Moretti was still on bail and the look on her face suggested she was more than conscious of that fact. ‘I’m not returning on bail, if that’s what you want to know. You’ll have to arrest me to get me to stay in this town. You saw how crazy that woman is. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, we were just messing around. That’s how it started, at least. Now she’s busting down my door.’
‘She had a flick knife in her bag; she wasn’t planning on stopping with your door. What’s all this about?’
‘We go way back. She’s been kicked around her whole life. Into all sorts. She wanted to go straight. Ditch the street life. She scrubbed up well, so her looks opened a few doors. I was proud of her, you know. She got a job and a regular income. I had a newborn and nothing.’
‘At the Oxlaine?’
‘Yeah, reception work. Nothing fancy, but she was able to move out of our digs and rent a proper place. I saw less of her, which is the way these things go. Then one day she turns up in a new car, wearing fancy clothes. Not crazy high end, but too much for reception work. I assumed it was on cards. You can’t get a credit card turning tricks on street corners, so I thought in the excitement of finally having a job, she’d signed up to whatever she could. Banks aren’t exactly choosy about who they lend to.
‘She sang a tune about a rich aunt dying. I called her bullshit and it turned out her boss had given her a bonus. A five-figure bonus. After that, the money kept coming. We lost touch for a while; I got tired of hearing how well things were going. I was happy for her, but didn’t want it rubbed in my face.’
Sarah heard footsteps at the top of the stairs.
‘He’s a nosey little fella.’ Moretti continued, leaning forward.
‘We had it out one day and she told me the truth. She hadn’t received a penny in gifts, her boss had been paying her. Paying her to toy with men.’
‘Toy with?’
‘It soon turned to extortion. Her boss was a lonely woman, her husband had left her and she took pleasure in screwing around with people. Too old to do it herself, and Leilani was the perfect candidate. By then, she’d got a taste for the cash and her payments weren’t enough. She started taking money from the guys too.’
‘How was she meeting them?’ Sarah found the story a little suspect, and wanted to check some facts.
‘No idea.’
‘Did you meet any of them?’
‘A couple. I went on dates with a couple. It was fun. All I had to do was lead them on, flirt with them and dump them. It was silly, really. We played characters. I was the lonely single mum, she was sometimes a high-flying business woman, a brokenhearted damsel or an upper-class seductress looking for a bit of rough. She was a natural at it. We got a kick out of it. I got paid and we weren’t harming anyone.’
‘I guess this place isn’t rented on inheritance then?’ Sarah had known the answer since the first time they'd met.
‘The only things I bought with honest money are stuffed in those bags.’
‘Seems like a good set-up. What changed?’
‘She couldn’t stop. Wanted more and more, and when they wouldn’t do what she wanted, she decided they had to die.’
‘Scott Enderson?’
‘The gaming nerd?’ Moretti rolled her eyes.
‘Who murdered him?’
‘One of them, I don’t know which.’
‘You called Enderson before he died. Why?’
‘I tried to warn him. He wouldn’t listen. I already had your lot round here asking about that. He was obsessed; Leilani has that effect on men. She found out I tried to stop it and she went nuts. She went out of her way to make it up to me, sorted me and Sheila out the room at the Oxlaine, but I’d seen enough to know I wanted nothing more to do with her.’
‘Who supplied the cocaine?’ Sarah wanted to get as much information out of Moretti, now that she'd finally started being honest.
‘I bought it. I bought it from Dibbles. Not directly, from one of his boys. You can’t buy drugs in this town without buying from him. He’s a jealous fucker, and before you give me a speech about doing the right thing and locking him up, he’s untouchable. There’s only one way to sort out men like him.’
‘Give evidence. Help lock Leilani away at least.’ Sarah knew she wouldn’t convince Moretti that legal methods were the right way to go, but had to give it a try.
Moretti smirked. ‘I can’t go to court, we’ve been through this. I’ve got kids to think about.’
‘Kids?’
‘Kid.’
‘Valerie Goddard, the owner of the Oxlaine and Leilani’s boss, is dead. She poisoned herself and four others. Three victims survived.’ Sarah said the words coldly, but Mark being one of those victims was still very much at the forefront of her mind.
‘Dead?’
‘Died at the hospital.’
‘She’s gone?’
‘You’ve got nothing to fear from either of them.’
‘It’s not that simple. There are others. Others addicted to her money, her way of thinking. People will do anything for money, and men for anything in a short skirt. Going to court won’t change anything. It doesn’t change my decision. I can’t put my son at risk. I’m sorry. It’s bad enough I’ve told you about Dibbles, but I’m guessing you’re already one step ahead of me on that one.’ Moretti stood up and walked towards the door. ‘I need to get going.’
‘Wait. She used a young girl in one of her blackmails. I need to know who she is. If you don’t help with anything else, just tell me where to find her. Please. No records, no statement. Just a name, where she is and how I contact her.’
Moretti stopped. ‘Keep her out of this. Leave it to me. I promise you she’s okay.’
‘Sally, that’s not good enough. She needs our protection.’
‘Your protection? How’s that been working out so far?’
‘She’s a little girl. I need to know she’s safe. It’s something I can’t just take your word for.’
‘You need to promise me she’ll be okay.’ Moretti looked beaten.
‘I’ll do the best I can.’
‘That’s not a promise where I come from.’
‘But it beats lying to you. You know better than I there are never any real guarantees.’
Moretti paused. ‘If I trust you, you let me walk out of here. No arrest. No returning on bail and no court.’
‘If you don’t show up, they’ll issue a warrant. I won’t stop you leaving, but I can’t promise I won’t chase you once you’re gone.’
Moretti paused. Sarah understood her hesitation. Putting her trust in a police officer, after a life of being hounded by them was a big decision. ‘Okay. You’re about to find out all about the person you’re dealing with. If anything happens to her, I’ll hold you personally responsible. And, believe me , that's not something you want.’ Moretti went to the top of the stairs. ‘You can come down. It’s okay. She’s one of the good ones. I think.’
Heart-warming.
Sarah saw a thin pair of legs at the top of the stairs as a young girl descended and came fully into view. She didn’t look at Sarah, just at the floor and occasionally flicked her eyes up to meet Moretti’s smiling face. Sarah hadn’t seen Sally-Anne smile like this since they’d met. They’d only ever been confrontational, all warrants and interview rooms. Sally-Anne playing the villain and Sarah playing the hero. Here, they stood side by side, two mothers looking at a vulnerable child, both wanting the best for her and both thinking they knew what that was.
The girl cradled into Sally-Anne’s shoulder and hid her face from Sarah. She caught a glimpse, a glimpse of a familiar look.
‘Sarah wants to talk to you about what happened. Is that okay?’ The girl sobbed and nodded. She gripped onto Sally-Anne.
‘Hello. I’m Sarah. I just want to talk to you for a moment or two. We won’t go anywhere if you don't want to, we’ll stay right here and Sally-Anne will stay here too.’ She nodded. Sarah moved to the left to try and get some eye contact. She wore an emerald necklace, the same one worn by Sheila Hargreaves the night she died. The girl raised her head and the likeness was devastating.
Death's Privilege Page 21
