by Rob Sinclair
The reality. That the stolen phone – her solace as much as it was her death warrant – was no longer there.
In a panic she whipped her fingers out, refolded the coat as her brain erupted with conflicting thoughts. She tried to piece together her movements. When had she last seen the phone? When had she last held it? When had she last felt its form against her side as she walked?
She couldn’t clearly find the answers. None of it made any sense.
There was a click and a clunk and the door opened. Ana’s heart lurched as she spun around. She hadn’t heard them come into the warehouse at all. Had they sneaked in or had she just been too all-consumed?
Victor strode across the room, away from Ana. Alex shut the door behind him then stood across it, arms folded.
‘You’re back,’ Ana said, her eyes not leaving Victor as he walked over to the bookcase.
‘Vic?’
He said nothing. Ana’s eyes darted around the room. Looking for what? A means of escape. A weapon? What was she supposed to do now?
Victor reached up, stuck his hand between two lever arch files. He pulled out the small black object, a thin lead trailing behind it.
He didn’t need to say what it was.
He turned around, the tiny CCTV camera in his hand. His face sullen yet almost sorrowful.
Neither Victor nor Alex said a word. None were needed.
Victor knew. He knew everything. Ana had walked right into this.
She shook her head in despair. ‘I’m sorry!’ she screamed.
‘No,’ Alex said. ‘But you will be.’
He lurched towards her.
Chapter 31
Dani’s head was down, her eyes scanning the screen in front of her so intently that she was barely aware of her surroundings, when the voice grabbed her attention.
‘Good morning.’
She shot up to see McNair hovering over her desk.
‘Early start, eh?’ McNair said before taking a sip from her takeaway coffee.
‘Couldn’t sleep,’ Dani said. She glanced at the clock on the computer screen. Seven fifteen. She’d been in the office since a little after six. The world outside the windows remained pitch black, a newly erected plastic Christmas tree twinkled in front of the glass. Who’d put that there since yesterday morning?
‘The trial keeping you up?’ McNair asked.
‘Not really.’ Which was bizarre now that Dani reflected. She’d barely even thought about Damian Curtis or her brother since she’d left court yesterday.
‘They’re expecting the verdict this morning,’ McNair said. For the first time she had Dani’s full attention, though her boss looked a little confused. ‘I assumed that’s why you were in so early. To catch up before you went over there.’
‘I will if I can,’ Dani said.
McNair frowned and shook her head. ‘I was planning to be there myself, to speak to the press as much as anything else, but I’m not sure I’ve the time now. I’m sure you’ll more than comfortably take my place.’
‘Of course.’ Dani nodded, though she was still only half listening. McNair muttered something as she wandered over to her office.
Dani got back to what she was doing, which was mostly staring at her computer screen, unsure where to go next. There was so much information being thrown into the HOLMES system for the investigation that Dani was struggling to make any sense of it. Forensics, post-mortem, CCTV, background checks, immigration records, interviews, phone records, financial records, the swathes of data were growing exponentially every day. Dani wondered whether perhaps everything they needed to crack the case wide open was right there in front of her, if she could just view it all in the right order.
Before she knew it, with her head down and swimming, the office had steadily filled: Easton, Constable, Grayling, Mutambe; all the key members of the investigation team.
She went to see Constable first.
‘Any luck with CCTV?’ she asked him as she grabbed a spare chair and scooted over to his desk. He looked a little put out by her accosting him when he was still yet to finish off his pain au raisin and flat white.
He sighed and put down his half-eaten pastry ‘There’s a lot going on,’ he said as he clicked into neatly arranged folders. ‘This isn’t all in HOLMES yet as I’m still working through it, but I am starting to narrow down some areas of interest.’
He clicked open several video files without playing any of them and then scribbled some nonsensical note onto his pad.
‘So, for Clara Dunne’s crime scene, the nearest towers we have are two streets away to the east, and the next street along to the west, though actually they’re about the same distance from her house. Going east there is a way to get past that camera and then further blackspots that could get you pretty much all the way to the motorway, but someone would have to be seriously prepared—’
‘I think we have to assume they were prepared. Given the nature of her death.’
‘Well, yeah, but… anyway. On the day of her murder, I’ve picked up her friend, Mrs Neita, walking past the tower on Bridle Road at nine thirty-eight.’ He brought up the video and played the seven-second snapshot. ‘I’m pretty sure that’s her there. Clothing and basics match.’
Although there wasn’t a crystal clear shot of her face, Dani agreed that it certainly looked like Bianca Neita.
‘Timing is consistent with her making the 999 call. I didn’t see anything else of her approaching Ms Dunne’s home within a few days prior to that.’
‘So her story seems to stack up then? At least in relation to her going there that morning, and finding the body.’
‘I guess so.’
‘Anyone else stick out?’
‘No one on foot who looked particularly suspicious to me, but then we don’t exactly have anything much to work with in that regard.’
Dani huffed. She guessed he was right.
‘But I do have this,’ Constable said.
He pulled up another file and pressed play. The same CCTV tower, a couple of hours before. A blue van, that looked exactly like—
‘The same van we found Jane Doe in?’ Dani said, heart racing.
Constable didn’t look convinced. ‘It is the same type, a Vauxhall Combo, same colour too, but the registration is different. And this registration is legit. Belongs to a guy named Clarence Yardley. From what I found from a quick search he’s a local plumber.’
‘Have you followed up with him?’
‘Not with him directly, but there was a stolen vehicle report for that van two weeks ago, filed by Mr Yardley.’
‘So it was his van then? That was used to transport Jane Doe?’
Constable turned his hands out. ‘We’d have to check VINs but it’s possible.’
It was more than possible, Dani thought. It was highly likely. Highly likely that the same people, in the same van, had killed both Clara Dunne and Jane Doe. Or, at least, had been transporting Jane Doe’s body.
Dani explained about the address in Wednesbury, where the 999 call had come from. ‘I need you to track that van, on whichever plate, as much as you can over the last two weeks. Concentrate on every one of our locations of interest. In particular we need to figure out who’s been driving it. Also, look further along the A5. Have they been up there before? I don’t just want to know where they’d come from that night with Jane Doe, but where they were heading to.’
‘You got it.’
‘Now you can enjoy your breakfast.’
Dani winked at him then got up. She looked over to Easton’s desk. Empty. She checked her watch. She’d expected him in by now.
DC Grayling was in, however, so Dani went over to her next.
‘Doing the rounds?’ Grayling said with a forced smile.
‘Got to keep on top.’
‘You want an update on surveillance, I’m guessing?’
‘Please.’
‘Very little to tell,’ Grayling said, her face looking as bored as she sounded. As though she’d been
given the rough end of a bad deal. ‘It’s only been twenty-four hours, though, so what would you expect?’
‘Twenty-four hours of information?’
Grayling didn’t seem to know how to take that.
‘The protocol we’ve got is that the teams are to call me immediately if they see anything suspicious,’ she said. ‘But other than that they’re to send me a daily written report. Two shifts per day for each location. Six reports, seventy-two hours of information. A lot of reports about not a lot.’
She opened one up – a detailed timeline of events at Victor Nistor’s warehouse – and scrolled through it at lightning speed, as if to prove a point of just how long it was, and how dull it was to be reviewing it.
‘So give me the highlights of yesterday,’ Dani said.
Grayling sighed as though she felt put out. Dani was becoming less and less impressed by the second. Not just because of the attitude but because this was so unlike Grayling. She was normally keen and upbeat.
Everyone had their problems outside of work, Dani mused. Perhaps that was it, though she wouldn’t ask. Not straight off the bat, at least.
‘There really wasn’t much going on.’ Grayling took a few seconds now to scan through the file more closely. ‘I’m still waiting on the reports from the second shift, but basically… nothing at all happened at Brigitta Popescu’s home. The only person who came at all, other than the postman, was the helper. She was in and out within an hour.’
That reminded Dani, she still wanted to catch up with Stef. Though preferably not at Brigitta’s house. Dani would avoid ever going back there again if she could.
‘Over at Nistor’s house, pretty much the same,’ Grayling said. ‘He and Ana Crisan left at just after ten a.m., together. They arrived at the warehouse an hour later.’
‘An hour? It’s a ten-minute drive?’
‘Maybe they got breakfast?’
Was it worth checking CCTV towers to see if they could trace the movement more fully? Probably not at this stage.
‘Nistor remained inside for pretty much the whole day. Plenty of people coming and going. There’s full details here. Descriptions of the people, their vehicles, registration numbers.’ Grayling sighed. ‘A lot of information telling us very little.’
‘I think you said that already. So Ana and Victor didn’t leave all day?’
‘Ana didn’t. Victor… well, he did and he didn’t.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘Seems sometime in the afternoon, Crisan and his partner Alexander Stelea, came out of the warehouse but they literally just stood there, had a smoke, then went and sat in Crisan’s car, on the forecourt.’
‘For how long?’
‘A couple of hours.’
‘That makes no sense.’
Grayling shrugged. ‘I’m just saying what I see.’
‘And then what?’
‘Then they both went back inside. About thirty minutes later the three of them came back out.’
‘With Ana this time?’
‘Yeah. They got into Stelea’s car and drove off together.’
Dani leaned in to read the record for herself. ‘It says she looked hesitant,’ Dani said. ‘And Victor was holding on to her.’
‘Lover’s tiff?’ Grayling said.
‘Did they go home?’
‘It’s not clear yet. The second shift started about an hour and a half after this.’
‘They hadn’t returned home by that point?’
‘No.’
‘Then can you find out when they did?’
Grayling looked at her watch. ‘The night shift literally finished half an hour ago.’
‘Please can you find out?’ Dani said, more sternly now.
Grayling sighed. ‘I’ll do my best.’
‘And if you need help from Constable in tracking Stelea’s car, then get it.’
More than a little frustrated with Grayling’s attitude, Dani headed back over to her own desk. Just before nine a.m. For some reason McNair’s earlier comments were now worming into Dani’s mind and as much as she tried to get back into her work, her thoughts had been sidelined.
No. It was no use. She had to know. She had to be there.
Before she left she made a call to Easton. Even if she was tied up for the next couple of hours, there was plenty he could be getting on with, particularly from their outing yesterday. They still had to follow up with Forensics for starters, not to mention making a start on identifying Liam Dunne’s mystery woman, and what had happened at the abandoned house in Wednesbury.
The call went straight to voicemail. She left him a message then put the phone away and thought for a few moments. Where the hell was he?
Her dilemma was genuine.
Still, Easton’s punctuality problem would have to wait. She needed to go.
She grabbed her coat and flung it on as she strode for the door.
Chapter 32
For the first time after several weeks of the trial, there were TV vans and news crews lining the road outside the Crown Court. Dani kept her head down as she walked past them all. Luckily the reporters and crews were still in the process of getting themselves set up and no one took any notice of her as she edged through. Perhaps on her way out she could find a back entrance. She really didn’t want to say anything to the press today, regardless of the verdict.
Dani once again seated herself in the public gallery, which was fuller today than it had been at any point during proceedings to date. No sign of Damian Curtis once again. Dani had been unsure whether perhaps he’d be brought out ceremoniously – or was it unceremoniously – for the verdict. No point, she guessed. The jury had made their minds up now, so his presence here, whatever state he was in, would have no bearing. He’d have to hear about his fate after everyone else. Dani felt a little sorry for him because of that, even if he was a killer. Albeit a killer who she still firmly believed had been grievously coerced into killing.
She would soon find out if the jury agreed.
‘Have the members of the jury reached a verdict?’ the judge asked the foreman – a middle-aged lady in a headscarf who was on her feet with a piece of paper rattling in her nervous grip.
‘Yes.’
‘On the charge of aggravated assault and aggravated kidnapping, how do you find the defendant?’
‘Guilty.’
The charges against Curtis for his attack on Sophie Blackwood, an entirely innocent victim in what was otherwise a concocted scheme of revenge, were perhaps the most straightforward, and ones which had been barely argued by either side.
‘On the chargers of murder, five counts in total, how do you find the defendant?’
‘Not guilty.’
There were uneasy murmurs and mutters from around the room now, particularly from those around the CPS team who were looking all the more nervous.
‘On the alternative charge of manslaughter by reason of diminished responsibility, five counts in total, how do you find the defendant?’
‘Guilty.’
There were ructions from all around Dani now. Family members of the victims perhaps, angry that Curtis had ‘got away with it’? Dani noted a strange exchange between Barker and O’Hare too. The two turned to each other and there was a mutual almost nonchalant nod from each of them, as though both were satisfied with the result.
Dani had seen enough. She slunk out. If she was quick, she could make it past the cameras before they even realised the court had been dismissed.
* * *
Only one TV interviewer, from BBC Midlands, tried to accost Dani as she made her escape. She politely declined to comment, indicating that she was sure DCI McNair would be providing a formal statement shortly. A white lie which had the desired effect of diverting the interviewer’s attention back to the doors of the courthouse. How long would she wait there now for McNair to emerge?
Well, it wasn’t as if Dani had specifically said that McNair would make her statement – which was sure to follow – from
that particular spot, was it?
Dani was soon past the swarm and was able to start to digest what she’d just witnessed. No murder conviction. That was a good thing, wasn’t it? Manslaughter by reason of diminished responsibility. Insanity as the press would surely term it. Damian Curtis would almost certainly now spend the foreseeable future, possibly even the rest of his life, in a secure mental facility. Exactly where he belonged, as far as Dani was concerned. Curtis wasn’t a good person. He was violent, he was unhinged and Dani hoped he would never be allowed back onto the streets again. But she also still firmly believed that prison was not the right place for him, and even more crucially that he’d been horrifically played into killing. Worked up into a frenzy from which his fragile mind was unable to make sense. The court had heard time and again how Dr Helen Collins was the person who’d done that.
It remained down to Dani now to prove that theory wrong, and finally get the justice that Curtis and his victims deserved.
She took out her phone as she walked. Still no response from Easton, and just the first signs of doubt were creeping into Dani’s mind now as to what was going on with him. She sent him a text. She was happy doing this next step alone, but the longer he remained incommunicado, the more annoyed she was becoming, given the crucial point they were at in their investigation.
She walked the short distance across the city to Brindleyplace. With the sun out today, and the temperature a balmy four degrees, most of the previous day’s snow, particularly in the city, had already melted. Even at mid-morning the Christmas market, which she had to navigate through on her way, was in full swing. The smell of sizzling wurst and steaming glühwein carried through the air with every step.
Maybe she’d make a stop-off on her way back over to HQ later.
The man she was due to meet, Henry Welter, was already waiting for her outside the coffee shop. Short and wiry, he looked jittery and shivery and greeted Dani with a limp handshake and a mouthful of overly white teeth.
