by M A Comley
His eyes rolled up to the ceiling. “As if. And it’s not even a match night, so no footie, either.”
“All rightie. Let’s plod on with the paperwork for the O’Leary case and leave here about five thirty. How’s that?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
The afternoon dragged by for Lorne. Dealing with the paperwork that accompanied her role as detective inspector in the Met Police was the bane of her life. She and Pete left the station as promised at five thirty and drove to Clapham.
Pete knocked on the door of the small terraced house. A woman in her early thirties, her blonde hair swept up into a ponytail, answered the door.
Lorne showed the woman her ID. “Hello, Miss Moran? I’m Detective Inspector Lorne Simpkins, and this is my partner, Detective Sergeant Pete Childs.”
“Can I stop you right there? I’m Donna’s friend, Mandy. She asked me to be here during your questions. Is that okay?”
“Of course. Is Donna in?”
Mandy stood aside to let them in. “Donna’s in there.” She pointed to the first door in the well-decorated hallway.
Lorne tapped on the door and walked into the well-proportioned room with high ceilings and a cute bay window overlooking the front garden. A young woman was sitting on the edge of the sofa, her hands clenched together in her lap. She glanced up at Lorne and smiled briefly. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the woman was petrified.
Lorne sat down next to the woman and placed a hand over hers. “There’s no need to be scared. We’ll do this at your pace. If you want us to stop at any time, just say, okay?”
“Thank you. Is it natural to fear for your own life when something like this happens?”
“I can’t lie to you—sometimes, yes. We’ll help you through this ordeal, I promise. Now, can you tell us what you saw?”
Donna pulled in a calming breath. “I was driving into work as usual this morning. Stopped at a red traffic light and just happened to turn sideways—that’s when I saw the man being beaten up by three large men.” Donna bowed her head and shook it slowly. “Why did I have to be so nosey?”
Lorne squeezed her hand. “You’re not alone. Everyone has that tendency at one time or another in their lives. Can you go on?”
“Yes. The man who was getting beaten up looked my way, which forced the other men to look at me too. One man shouted at the other two men and pointed my way. I freaked out when I saw the two men running towards me. I could do nothing about it, though, as the lights were still red. As soon as they changed, I switched lanes and put my foot down. The men were furious I’d escaped them. Things keep flashing through my mind: the man’s eyes pleading with me and the anger on the other men’s faces when I managed to get away.”
“I can understand how frightened you must be, Donna. It’s a terrible situation to find yourself in. I have to ask, would you be willing to testify in court if we track the men down and arrest them?”
Donna remained silent for a few moments, but Lorne gave her the chance to consider the idea before she spoke again. “If you feel your life is in danger, we can arrange witness protection for you. I have to warn you about going down that route; however, there are significant pros and cons. First, you would be forced to live in another part of the country, somewhere the men wouldn’t be able to find you. There, you would need to live under an assumed name.”
“Wait! Are you saying I’d have to leave my home, my job and my friends?”
“I am. That’s the downside to the protection scheme. It does what it says on the tin, though—it protects you. It means you have to start over from scratch somewhere else.”
“And you’d provide me with a house?”
“For now, yes.”
“What about a job?”
Lorne shook her head. “I’m sorry, that would be out of our hands.”
“So, how would I live? On fresh air alone?”
“I don’t really know the ins and outs of the mechanics to the scheme. It’s always changing, you see. I’m sure there’ll be someone I can get in touch with who could look out for you in the area where you’re sent for a week or two.”
“But I love my job, my home, and I really wouldn’t want to move away and lose my friends. Do you seriously think these men will come after me?”
“Did they get a look at your number plate?” Pete piped up.
Donna shrugged dejectedly. “There’s every chance they did. I don’t know for definite.” She looked up at her friend, who was still standing by the door.
“Want me to make some coffee? It might help you make the right decision. It’s a long shot, I know,” Mandy said.
“That would be great. Thank you.” Lorne smiled at the woman.
Pete cleared his throat. “Er… four sugars for me.” He tapped his protruding stomach. “I’ve cut down lately.”
Lorne glared at Pete then looked up at Mandy. “He’ll have two sugars, thanks. Just the one for me.”
“I think I can manage a cup. Not too strong, Mand,” Donna said, her head still bowed.
Mandy left the room, then Lorne heard the boiling kettle and the chink of crockery in the kitchen amidst the silence that settled in the lounge.
Sighing, Donna asked, “What other options are available to me? To ignore that I saw a man being murdered?”
“It’s your call at the end of the day, Donna. We can’t force you to testify.”
“We have to catch the men first,” Pete added.
“Would you be willing to look through the suspect files, see if you can recognise the men?”
“Of course.”
“Then you’ll need to come down to the station. What about tomorrow after work?”
“I can do that. Can I ask if you know who the victim is? Does he have a family?”
“That I can’t tell you, as we haven’t formally identified him yet. We’ll drop by the pathologist’s office after we leave here, see if he has any clues as to the man’s ID. If not, we usually get in touch with the local TV station, ask them to put out an appeal. Either way, we’re sure to get an ID for the victim soon, which will hopefully point us in the direction of a motive that will eventually lead us to an arrest. With your input, all that could be accelerated.”
“No pressure on my part, then.”
Lorne patted Donna’s hand again as Mandy walked into the room with their drinks. “You have my word that we’ll do anything and everything to keep you safe, Donna.”
“What if it’s gang related? Watching the news on TV every night, there are more and more murders going on in London, and nearly all of them seem to be carried out by horrible gangs. That’s my biggest fear. What if half a dozen of these gang members turn up here and murder me?”
“They won’t.”
“But how do you know that, Inspector?”
“Look, if the men didn’t follow you, then that’s pretty much guaranteed. There’s no way they can track down your address, Donna.”
“What if they noted down my licence plate? Aren’t there ways of finding out where I live using that information?”
“No, only the police can do that. Please, let us do the worrying. Otherwise, you’ll get into such a state that it’ll end up destroying you.”
“Wise words, Inspector,” Mandy added then took a sip from her mug. “Let the police worry about that side of things. If you want, I can stay with you for a few days, just until your nerves settle down.”
“I can’t ask you to do that, Mandy. You have your own life to lead without babysitting me.”
“It might be an idea, just for a few days, Donna.” Turning to Mandy, Lorne asked, “Do you have a husband or family at home?”
“No, only my cat, Tiger. He can fend for himself for a while. The neighbour usually leaves food out for him anyway. I insist. Let me go home and pack a bag. I can stay here for a few days and travel into work with you.”
“While I still have a job, you mean,” Donna said despondently.
“It may not come to that
, Donna. There’s a lot to consider before we go down the protection-scheme route. Shall we call it a day for now? You’ll call into the station tomorrow to look through the suspect files, yes?”
Reluctantly, Donna nodded. “I promise. I’ll feel safer knowing that Mandy is here with me.”
Lorne and Pete stood up to leave. “Thank you for your time, ladies. We’ll see you around sixish tomorrow at the station?”
“We’ll be there. I’ll show you out.” Mandy placed her mug on the table and followed them into the hallway.
Pete opened the front door and stepped out into the front garden.
Lorne turned to face Mandy and lowered her voice. “Take care of her. I doubt Donna will get much sleep tonight. Just be there if she needs to talk.”
“I will. I’ll pop back to my flat now. I should be back within the hour. She’ll be safe with me, Inspector. I’m a black belt in judo.”
Lorne chuckled. “Gosh, how did you manage to achieve that? My dad used to insist I go as a kid, and I always ended up with a headache because of the constant forward rolls I had to endure.”
Mandy nodded. “Ah, the classes get better once they get rid of the whingers and the ones who aren’t cut out for it drop out.”
“Thanks for that. Take care, Mandy. See you tomorrow.”
The door shut behind Lorne, and Pete was waiting for her at the end of the path.
“What do you think?”
“About what, Pete?”
“The witness-protection side of things?”
“I think she and Mandy will be up half the night, weighing up the options. To me, she’d be foolish not to take us up on the offer, but I can understand her reluctance if she has a stable job. Let’s call it a day.”
“I thought you were going to see Arnaud?” Pete screwed up his nose when he mentioned the pathologist, an obnoxious man neither of them really liked.
“Damn, that’s right. Okay, I’ll take a flying visit out there. You can call it a day, if you like. Want me to drop you off at the tube station?”
“Yeah, if you don’t mind. I think I’ll call in at the Indian on the way home, get my curry fix for the week.”
“Whatever. Maybe I should invite you over soon to give you a cookery lesson on how to eat healthily.”
“Yadda, yadda. Give it a rest, Lorne. It takes years of expert planning to wind up with a stomach the size of mine.”
Lorne narrowed her eyes at his wise-arse retort. She felt like swiping him around the head but knew it would be pointless. Instead, she dropped him off at the nearest station and continued on the short journey to the hospital. She was glad it was still light at this time of the evening, because going to the mortuary in the dark was always a disturbing experience for her.
When Lorne arrived, Jacques Arnaud was in his office. She whistled when she saw the amount of paperwork littering his large desk. “And I thought my desk was a bloody mess.”
He looked up at her and raised one of his eyebrows. His tanned face remained hard to read, as it always did. “I wasn’t aware that we’re in competition with each other, Inspector. Is there a reason for your visit?”
Lorne sighed at the man’s lack of humour. It was hard being in the same room as someone so condescending. “The man found in the alley earlier today. I wondered if you had managed to ID him yet.”
“No.”
Crap, you obnoxious, jumped-up prick! Are all French men as ignorant as you, or are you truly one in a million? -
Refusing to be intimidated, she asked, “Any chance I can see the body?”
He looked down at the file open in front of him and back up at her. “For what reason? This is the only time today I’ve had the opportunity to complete my never-ending paperwork, and now you want to drag me away from it. May I ask why?”
She ground her teeth together. “If it’s too much trouble, then I’ll leave. Maybe I should add your reluctance to give me a viewing of the body to my report when I finally get around to doing my own paperwork. Touché, as you French bastards would say.
He pushed his chair away from the desk, scraping it noisily on the tiled floor, and marched towards her. He veered off at the last second to squeeze past her. “Come with me.”
She had to run to keep up with his long strides. “Have you established the cause of death?”
“Yes.”
Lorne pulled a face behind his back. He must have sensed what she was doing because he turned swiftly to look over his shoulder. She pretended she was about to sneeze and covered her nose with her hand. He grunted then continued walking back up the stark-white corridor to the cold room where they kept the corpses.
Arnaud pulled out one of the drawers and uncovered the body lying beneath the white sheet.
Seeing the amount of bruising on the man’s face and upper torso, Lorne winced. “Are we saying that this man was pummelled to death?”
“I’m not saying anything; you are.”
“According to the witness, the man was set upon by three burly men. Can you tell what the fatal blow was?”
“No. I can give you an educated guess, if that’s what you’re hinting at?”
“Go on.”
“Here, the man’s nose is broken. The nasion bone was thrust into his brain. If you hit it with enough force, it is easy to kill someone with just one blow.”
“Ouch, so do you think it was intentional or a beating that went gravely wrong?”
“I think any beating is intentional, Inspector. Whether the culprit intended to use such force is another matter and something that you should ask once you’ve captured the offender. I have no more answers for you at this time.”
“Are you dismissing me, Dr. Arnaud?”
“I’ve always said you were astute.” He covered the corpse and pushed the drawer closed again.
Sarcastic shit! “Then I’ll take my leave and go home.”
“You do that, Inspector. Enjoy your evening. Think of me slaving away at my desk, won’t you?”
Not likely, arsehole.
CHAPTER THREE
Lorne was nearing her home in North London when her mobile rang. She pulled over and looked at the number. It wasn’t one she recognised. “Hello. This is DI Simpkins.”
Heavy breathing greeted her before a woman’s voice shouted, “She’s gone! Donna has gone.”
“Mandy, is that you?”
“Yes. Please, you have to help me. I came back and found the front door wide open and Donna gone.”
“Could she have gone to her parents’?”
“No, they’re away on holiday at the moment. Why would she take off if we’d made arrangements for me to return within the hour? It doesn’t make sense.”
“I agree—it doesn’t. Let me ring the station and tell them to put a bulletin out for her. Can you send me an up-to-date picture of her via your phone?”
“I can. Doing it now. What shall I do? Stay here?”
“Yes, I’ll send a panda car to the address now.”
“Is it them, do you think?”
“I wouldn’t like to speculate at this time, Mandy. Maybe she’s just gone for a walk to clear her head.”
“And left the door open? I don’t think so, Inspector. I’m hanging up now. Please let me know if you hear anything.”
“I will. Try and remain calm.” Lorne ended the call, waited for the image to appear on her phone then called the station. After she passed on the image and gave instructions for all the cars in the area to be on the lookout for Donna Moran, she rang home. “Hi, Tom. I was on my way home, but I’ve had an emergency call and need to return to the station.”
“Really? Are you forgetting that you promised Charlie you’d help her with her English homework tonight? This is just typical of you—that damn job has always come before us, hasn’t it?” He slammed the phone down, leaving her feeling confused and more than a little angry. Their marriage lately had been one long bout of arguments and misunderstandings. Every move she made was the wrong move in the eyes of her h
usband. She shrugged off her disappointment and turned the car around. On the way, she rang Pete to apprise him of the situation. He cussed a lot, then she told him to stay at home and clock in at work the usual time the following morning.
* * *
Donna’s heart raced, matching the speed of the car she was trussed up in. Why did I open the door? Why? I can’t see me getting out of this alive!’ She’d answered the door, thinking Mandy had returned with her overnight bag. As soon as she recognised the leader of the gang, she tried to slam the door in his face, but he’d anticipated her next move and smashed his fist against the door. The force disrupted her balance and sent her reeling backwards. Then two other men grabbed her. One threw her over his shoulder, and between them, they bundled her into the boot of their car. She had cried out, but no one had come to her rescue. All she could do was wait for her punishment and, ultimately, her death. She could hear the loud music in the front of the car. Its heavy beat pounded against her skull. As the car slowed down, she thought she heard the sound of gravel hitting the underside of the car, but she wasn’t quite sure because of the loud music.
She sucked in a breath and held it. Maybe if she pretended to be dead, they would leave her alone. Her eyes closed as the boot sprung open. Crap!
“Get her out, boys. Let’s have some fun with her before we finish her off.”
She gasped, forgetting all about her plan to act dead.
“Who wants to be first?”
Donna had recently seen a TV programme about how useless the tactics taught in self-defence classes were when a woman was tied up, so she shouted the first thing that came into her head. “I’ve got AIDS.”
The men fell silent. Donna cringed, wondering if she’d done the right thing.
There was movement behind her, then the leader leaned in close, staring into her eyes. “Is this some kind of wind-up?”
“No. I’ve just been diagnosed. I found out recently that my ex-partner has slept with ten women during our two-year relationship.”
The leader looked at her as if she’d just landed from Mars, then he laughed loudly. “I guess there’s no telling what lurks beneath, hey, guys?”
