by Chris Simms
Duggy let out an excited cry, claggy lumps of Weetabix clinging to his face and hands. The infant’s legs were a mass of sharp little movements. Jon had to grin. ‘You are such a little monster, aren’t you?’
Alice used his toothless smile as an opportunity to pop the last spoonful of food in. His lips closed round it. She withdrew the spoon to a point just below his chin and waited. His delighted eyes hadn’t left Jon as his mouth re-opened and it came tumbling back out.
‘He’s had enough,’ Alice stated, removing the plastic bowl from the reach of his chubby little fingers. She then used his cloth bib to remove the food from his face and hands. As soon as she stood, Jon moved in and lifted him from the high seat. Like hoisting up a sack of gravel, he thought. ‘Now little man, no yacking all over your Daddy!’
Duggy started trying to jam his fingers into Jon’s mouth. He angled his head back, laughing at his son’s persistence. On the shelf above the radiator, his phone started to ring.
Alice checked the screen. ‘Private number.’
‘If it’s a bloody sales call...can you do the honours?’
Alice pressed green. ‘Hello? No, he’s busy. Listen, if you’re selling PPI or something, we’re...oh. Right. Hang on a second.’ She pressed the mouthpiece to her chest. ‘It’s Iona Khan,’ she said in a low voice. ‘Swap?’
Jon glanced at the clock; seven twenty in the morning, and on a Sunday. She was keen. He nodded.
Alice raised the phone. ‘Hang on, Iona.’
He transferred Duggy into Alice’s arms then plucked the phone from her fingers. ‘Iona, hi.’
‘Morning, Jon – sorry to ring so early, but did you get the group text?’
‘Text? No.’
‘I thought not. A text went out half an hour ago. I don’t think you’ve been added to the central list, yet: I had to call Nick Hutcher to get your number.’
‘What was this text?’
‘The Porsche has appeared.’
‘Really?’ Immediately, he headed for the corridor. ‘Where?’
‘There’s an Aldi on the Hyde Road; the A57.’
‘I know it.’
‘The manager found it there this morning, when he arrived to open up.’
‘So where are you?’
‘Stood looking at it. Someone’s had a bit of fun. Kids.’
‘It’s been joy-ridden?’
‘No, they’ve just wrecked the paintwork. Interior’s intact, by the look of it.’
‘OK, I’ll be there in fifteen.’ He cut the call and turned to the stairs.
As Jon neared the Showcase cinema and its vast car park, he looked at the grassy area and small playground on the opposite side of the road. He remembered the woman’s body lying there, naked except for a pair of knickers, the skin of her face skilfully removed. One of several partially skinned victims The Butcher of Bellevue had scattered about here a few years before. Jon still had trouble in the meat section of the supermarket if he caught sight of raw pork; it was just too damn similar.
The Aldi was a bit further along, parking area deserted except for five vehicles: two liveried police cars, a Crime Scene Investigation van, a black VW Polo and, set apart from the group, a bright red Porsche.
Jon couldn’t decide if the vehicle looked like it had been rejected by the group or if it was stalking the other cars.
Iona looked so small among the cluster of people, her dark hair shifting about as she spoke. He parked his Mondeo beside her Polo and walked quickly across. She saw him coming and met him halfway. ‘Morning. What happened to your face?’
‘This?’ Jon touched the small cut above his eyebrow. ‘Bumped heads, sparring down in the gym.’
‘Back at base?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Who with?’
Jon wasn’t sure if she meant who he’d bumped heads with or who had been sparring. ‘There were loads down there. Not sure of half their names. Anyway, thanks for the heads-up.’
‘No problem.’
‘And Alice says sorry. For being short with you when you rang.’
‘Alice is your wife?’
‘She is.’
‘She sounded nice.’
‘Cheers. What’s this looking like?’
‘It was the first thing the store manager – Justin – saw on arriving this morning. The store closed at ten last night and he remembered it was one of only a few cars still here at that point. Overnight, local kids seem to have been practising their handwriting skills on it, but they didn’t actually break in.’
‘So the interior’s intact?’
‘Seems so.’
‘Win.’
‘Yes – and so is the situation with cameras.’ She gestured to the pole in the centre of the car park. A cluster of cameras formed a crown at its top.
‘Fingers crossed for a nice mug shot of our Mystery Man as he drives in.’
‘My thoughts exactly. The manager’s already inside bringing up the security footage. You coming?’ She stepped towards the single story building. At one corner, a panel of the security shutters had been raised. Jon could see lights on through the plate glass door.
As they crossed the asphalt, he glanced over at the Porsche.
Nob-head. Jaz sux dix. Splifta. Crozzer and Dan. Red Scum.
Mr Iwobi would have a re-spray bill when he eventually got his car back, Jon thought. He checked whether it was Nikki that was crouched at the side of the car, twirling a zephyr brush across its door handles. It was a bloke. He spoke to Iona’s back. ‘This is me being over-cautious, but we should get the boot checked. Just to be safe.’
Iona turned round. ‘Just to be...’
He watched as her look of realisation was instantly replaced by one of annoyance. ‘I’m such an idiot: tunnel-vision of getting an image of the driver.’
‘Easily done. I’m sure it’ll be empty, but...’ He approached the CSI. ‘Got one of those thingummy-jiggies for forcing boots by any chance?’
The man had to tip his head right back to make eye contact. ‘In the van, why?’
Jon peered into the vehicle’s main compartment: no droplets of blood on the cream seats, or any other signs of a struggle. ‘We just want to check inside the boot.’
‘It’ll trigger the alarm, you realise?’
‘So will getting it on a low-loader. You can’t delay the inevitable.’
‘Back at the depot, we can spring all the doors for you.’
‘More urgent than that. Sorry.’ Jon headed across to the CSI van’s rear doors. As he knew it would be, the slim-line tool with a hooked-end was secured to the floor by two elasticated loops. He popped their fasteners and carried the short length of metal back to the Porsche. ‘Ready for a racket?’
The CSI looked seriously pissed-off as Jon positioned the curved end beside the mid-point of the boot door. Bracing his arms, he jerked it sharply down. No alarm. Jon jammed it in further, buckling the body work. ‘Kids must have drained the battery last night,’ he grunted, working it up and down, ‘when they were doing their graffiti.’
With a final wrench, he ripped the lock apart. Readying himself for the sight of a lifeless female body, he lifted it fully open. Thank God, he thought, seeing just three Nike boot bags inside. He handed the implement to the CSI with a sheepish smile. ‘Panic over.’
As they stepped into the supermarket, he glanced about. ‘First empty Aldi I’ve ever set foot in.’
Iona cast an eye over the produce in the area before the aisles began. ‘Disposable barbecues. Might grab a couple on the way out.’
‘You’ve been bitten by the Aldi bug, then?’
She started along the aisle. ‘His office is at the back. I shopped in Aldi for years; I was a student not that long ago.’
‘Of course, didn’t occur to me it would be popular with students.’
‘God, I lived on their packets of flavoured rice, I did.’
They were now passing the cereals section. ‘The luxury muesli’s very good, if you haven’t tried it
. The orange one with dried fruit.’
‘Prefer the purple.’
‘Purple? No way. All those curvy bits of white stuff. Like chewing on giant’s toenail clippings.’
She gave him a look. ‘The dried coconut, you mean?’
He shrugged. ‘Whatever it is, it shouldn’t be allowed.’
The door at the end of the aisle read Staff Only. There was a security pad below the handle. Iona knocked and it was swiftly opened by a thin man with thick glasses. Smile ready on his face, he looked out at Iona. Then his gaze lifted to Jon. ‘Oh.’
‘This is my colleague, DC Spicer,’ Iona announced.
‘Morning,’ Jon said cheerily, extending a hand.
‘Yes, morning.’ He quickly shook then stepped back. ‘This way.’
Jon could see the man was slightly flustered as he turned and bustled along a short passage to the office at the end. They passed a noticeboard with green names on a red grid. Times filled the boxes. The staff area was drab and basic. Like they all are, Jon thought. Inside the cramped office he saw two cups of tea ready beside a boxy television.
‘Um...’ The manager pushed his glasses back up his nose with a forefinger. ‘Did you want a drink?’
‘No, you’re all right,’ Jon replied. ‘I’ve just had one.’
‘OK.’ The manager gestured for Iona to sit then took the seat beside her. ‘Tea with no sugar?’
‘Thanks,’ Iona replied, sliding the cup out the way.
Jon moved slightly to the side so he was just in her line of vision. Smirking, he looked at the back of Justin’s head and gave her a wink.
Studiously, she ignored him. ‘So, any luck, Justin?’
‘I think this is it,’ he said proudly. ‘Time: nine-thirty-four.’ He took the VCR player off pause and they all watched the red Porsche Cayenne as it swung into the car park. ‘You can see the indicator’s flashing,’ Justin added. ‘So it came from the direction of the city centre.’
Good spot, thought Jon.
The car ignored several places closer to the doors to pull up alongside a dark blue van. Reflections meant the windows were impossible to see through, but after a few seconds, the door began to open.
‘Here we go,’ murmured Jon.
A young female climbed out.
‘That’s – ’ Iona stopped short of saying the name. She twisted round to look at Jon. ‘It’s her.’
‘Well, well, well.’
They watched as she made her way into the store.
‘Now,’ Justin said, pressing pause. ‘I’ve retrieved the in store footage – it’s stored digitally, direct to this computer.’ He reached for a mouse and the monitor on his desk lit up. ‘Here she is.’
The footage was of inferior quality, but there was no doubt it was her. She came in through the doors, picked up a basket and disappeared from the camera’s view.
‘Given time, we could follow her entire visit,’ Justin stated.
‘Right through to the till,’ Jon said. ‘Including how she paid.’
He saw Iona nod eagerly; if she’d used a card, they should be able to track her movements with every subsequent use. ‘Could you get that for us, Justin? Along with what she actually bought?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘Great. And could we go back to the car park footage, to see what she does on leaving?’
He spun his chair round. ‘I’ll go to four times speed. Average visit’s duration is thirty-five to forty minutes, less with basket.’
For the next few minutes, they watched a procession of people scurrying in and out. Justin pressed play and normal speed resumed. She soon appeared, now carrying two bulging plastic bags. Without even a hint of a glance at the Porsche, she walked across the front of the building, past the chains of trolleys and through the pedestrian access point.
Jon exchanged a puzzled glance with Iona. Did that mean her location was within walking distance of the store? But then why drive to it?
‘Bus,’ Justin said, as if reading their thoughts. ‘There’s a stop on the far side of the road. Loads continue on into the city centre from there.’
Iona gave him a smile and the man’s face instantly flushed.
CHAPTER 27
Elissa walked along the quiet street. Early Sunday morning and the world was still asleep. She had the same feeling of detachment as when she’d clamped both hands round the knife’s handle and...she winced at the thought. The windows of the houses to her side were made grey by pale curtain linings beyond the glass. She pictured what was on the other side of those drawn curtains. Sleeping bodies stretched out in silent rooms. She thought of Kelly. How she was also in a quiet room with the curtains drawn. Sitting cold and stiff in that chair.
The Elissa Yared I was, she thought, is gone. When the man had reappeared in the kitchen doorway, he’d found her at the sink, hands a mass of bubbles as she removed the blood that, on drying, had tightened like a thin membrane of glue on her skin. Methodically, she rubbed a thumb at the creases and grooves, just like she was at work. Once the routine was complete, she carefully checked for any grazes or nicks. There were none. She was fine. She hadn’t contracted Hepatitis B or C or HIV. Not that it really mattered: life, as she knew it, had ended with news of Tarek’s death. All this? It was tying up a few loose ends before she got to see her family once more.
He returned to his seat and started to finish off the rest of his food. But when she glanced across, his expression was different. More thoughtful. Seeing his meal was almost eaten, she went into the front room and knelt before the TV.
When he came through, her message was ready on the screen. We could not let her live.
He beckoned for the controller. That is true.
She took it back. What is your name?
Doku Zakayev
Thank you. What is next, Doku?
Another place.
She wondered if that included her. It had to include her. What else had she left but this? As she selected the letters, she felt sick with dread. How will you get to the other place?
She couldn’t bear to look at the screen as he formed his reply. Eventually, he said her name. ‘Elissa?’
She dragged her eyes up from the floor. His reply was waiting on the screen. In the car you will get for us.
Elissa rotated her hips slightly as she continued walking along. The sofa had been too soft; now she felt stiff. He had offered her the empty bedroom, but his shoulder needed to be properly supported.
After another ten minutes, she got to the A & E department. It was less busy than expected and she was able to slip in through the doors reserved for ambulance arrivals, then continue to the staff room without anyone stopping her for a chat. Inside, a group of four nurses were on their break. As Elissa hoped, Linda was among them. On seeing her, Linda glanced at the big whiteboard where all the shifts were laid out. ‘Hello there. You’re not on, are you?’
‘No. Actually, I was – good morning, by the way.’
‘Morning.’
‘I popped in hoping to ask a bit of a favour...’
‘OK. You need to borrow my car again?’
Elissa smiled. A rosy-faced woman in her fifties, Linda was one of the few people at work who had shown more than a cursory concern over the fact Elissa had lost her entire family in such a short space of time. When arrangements for her father’s funeral needed to be made, Elissa’s car was off the road. Linda had insisted that Elissa borrow hers, and then offered to help out in any other way that was needed. ‘Got it in one. I’m really sorry to ask – but Aunty Furat needs to visit her sister in Rochdale. It’s – ’
Linda held up a hand. ‘Forget the details. It’s fine.’
‘Thanks, Linda. You know...Sunday trains...’
‘I certainly do. Honestly, it’s not a problem. I’m on until eight all this week; I won’t even touch the thing before Friday.’ She went over to her locker and undid a little padlock. ‘It’s parked right outside my place. Just let me know where you leave it if there’s
no space there when you get back.’ She produced a set of keys from her handbag, slid the one off with a Toyota logo on the fob and held it up with a flourish. ‘Ta-da! The pocket rocket.’
‘Thanks so much, Linda. Let me give you some money for this.’
‘Rochdale and back? Don’t be silly. Go on, off you go.’
‘Really?’
‘Of course.’
Elissa started for the doors. ‘Wine, then? A bottle of SB.’
The fingers of Linda’s right hand fluttered theatrically at her throat. ‘Well, if you insist.’
‘It’s a deal,’ Elissa replied, pocketing the key.
CHAPTER 28
‘So, who are we actually reporting to?’ Jon asked as they walked from the car park to the CTU building.
‘DCI Weir,’ Iona replied. ‘Since, at the start of this, I had been tasked with looking into Elissa Yared. And, you’re the new boy – so you get bounced between teams, not me.’ She gave him an innocent smile.
‘Fine with me,’ Jon answered. He’d already reasoned that Weir might have made him feel unwelcome, but the man seemed like he’d be straightforward to deal with. Pinner, on the other hand, had appeared more friendly – but the way he’d deflected Jon’s question about the potential gravity of the case was a worry. It had been evasive. Slippery. And, in Jon’s experience, that indicated a man more concerned with his own success than that of his team. He’d take Weir’s hostility any day.
They found the DCI in his office, mulling over paperwork.
‘Spicer and Khan.’ He waved them to the seats opposite his desk and addressed Iona. ‘What did you find?’
‘The Porsche was being driven by Elissa.’ She removed the previous evening’s security tape that had been requisitioned from the Aldi store. ‘Got her on this, clear as day.’
Weir seemed to take the revelation in his stride. ‘She’s working with the Mystery Man.’
‘Seems so,’ Iona responded. ‘She also bought a load of food items and some painkillers. Paid with cash.’
‘Painkillers?’
‘We know he damaged his shoulder in the collision on the M60.’
‘She bought this stuff from the same location where she dumped the car? What’s that: arrogant or naive?’
