If Fear Wins (DI Bliss Book 3)

by Tony J. Forder

  Holbrook remained standing by the door, whilst Bliss and Chandler took a seat each. The office was large enough to be comfortable with four people in it. Chandler read Lundy his rights as if it were nothing more than a casual aside.

  ‘What’s this all about, then?’ Lundy asked. He leaned back in his chair, hands clasped together in his lap.

  ‘I’m pretty sure you can guess,’ Bliss said. ‘But let’s get straight to it without all the usual niceties and preamble. Officer Lundy, we have information by way of witness statements to suggest that you and Flight Officer Duncan Livingston took part in a smuggling and people trafficking operation out of this RAF base. An operation which ultimately resulted in FO Livingston’s murder. Do you have anything to say to that, sir?’

  The gasp from Holbrook standing behind them was loud and unrestrained.

  Lundy nodded his head, his gaze unwavering. He took his time before replying.

  ‘Statements from…?’

  ‘We have Lewis Drake and his crew down at Thorpe Wood nick as we speak, sir. We’re confident in the information they have provided us with.’

  This time Lundy sighed. ‘All right. I won’t string this out. I see people denying stuff on these TV shows and I wonder why they don’t all save time and just front up to it. I’m guessing it was probably that dopey bastard Stuart who did the most damage. So, let’s discuss a deal.’

  ‘Lundy!? What the hell–’

  Bliss cut Holbrook off with a raised hand and a hard look over his shoulder. ‘You’re here to observe,’ he said. ‘Not to interfere. Are we clear on that?’

  Holbrook nodded, his cheeks reddening. Whether in outrage at Lundy’s admission of wrongdoing or the stern caution, Bliss could not be sure. He didn’t think the man would interrupt again, though. He turned back to the officer behind the desk.

  ‘A deal?’ he said. ‘Interesting response. What kind of a deal? With everything we already know about your role in what took place here, what could you possibly have to trade?’

  ‘You have Drake,’ Lundy said. ‘So you must know what happened to Livingston. I assume you also know all about the supply chain. Specifically that special part of the supply chain that comes in containers rather than packing crates, and can end up in an old drum tucked away in a scrapyard. But there is one thing I’m guessing you don’t know, Inspector.’

  ‘And that is?’ Bliss leaned forward, favouring his better ear slightly.

  ‘Be patient. This is my side of the story now, and you’re going to want to hear it.’‘Am I? So far you’re still giving us things we already know about, so I’m not hearing anything worthy of a deal.’

  Lundy picked up a pack of cigarettes, tipped one out and tapped it twice on the packet. Then he took out a lighter, set the flame to his cigarette and drew in the smoke and flavour with all the relish of a free man.

  ‘Fair enough,’ he said. ‘Let me be clear about what I’m trading with. The haul that came in on Sunday evening was Duncan’s first. He did his job and then went about his business, out drinking with his mates. But on his way back to base, Dunc became nervy about the marked container he remembered hearing a noise coming out of. He called me, sounded pretty jumpy. I told him he was making a fuss over nothing, but he insisted on checking it out. Told me he didn’t want to sign back onto base in case it raised any flags, so I went and collected him. I didn’t really want to, but neither did I want him getting so wound up that he spilled his guts. I brought him onto base in the back of an RAFP van, thinking his nerves would settle. He went off to the cargo area, while I came back here. I still had to be visible as I was on duty.’

  Another long drag, this time releasing a little smoke which ran a lazy curve all the way up to the ceiling. Bliss saw the man was milking it, and he started to get a really bad feeling about what was coming up.

  ‘By the time he found me again, Dunc was fretting about how soon the courier would be turning up. Their arrival on base to collect the goods was all above board, Dunc having sorted it just as he’d been paid to do. That was not the problem. He was bricking it because in checking the container he found out about the trafficking and that was when Dunc lost it. He kicked off, I guess in panic, and the girl who eventually ended up in the drum managed to get away from him.’

  Bliss was appalled by what he was hearing, yet at the same time invigorated. They were so close now to solving the entire case. Still Lundy’s calm manner chipped away at him.

  ‘So Livingston was okay with the artefacts, but not a trafficked girl.’ Bliss nodded thoughtfully. ‘That figures. It must have really scared the crap out of him when she ran off.’

  ‘I reckon.’ Lundy paused, smiled and stared directly at Bliss. Took one more draw for effect. ‘Though I suspect he was more frantic about the other five girls.’

  Bliss felt as if ice had been tube-fed directly into a vein. Tiny hairs stood up on the back of his neck. Stunned by this piece of news, he threw Lundy a look of horror and said, ‘Five more?! You’re saying there are six in all? Are you certain about that?’

  ‘Of course I am.’ Lundy gave a firm nod. ‘Shipments always contain half a dozen at a time.’

  ‘So what happened to them?’ Chandler asked, her voice quavering. She stood up abruptly, sending her chair crashing over backwards. Lundy barely seemed to notice.

  ‘In a panic, Duncan piled all five girls into an RAF van which he then drove off base. He said he couldn’t stand to see them in the hands of Drake’s crew, but neither could he bring himself to drive them straight to the cop shop because of how involved he was. He figured he needed to buy some time to work out a deal somehow with Drake, because when he returned to base the first thing he did was attempt to sort things out with the man’s crew. And… well, you know what happened there.’

  ‘So where did he take them, Lundy?’ Chandler demanded. ‘Where did Livingston take those girls, and where are they now?’

  ‘I think this is where the deal comes in, Sergeant,’ Bliss said softly. He was finding it difficult to swallow.

  Lundy leaned forward, sneering as he looked between them. ‘That’s exactly right. This is where the deal comes in. The one who escaped, well she had to go as soon as she was found. Which she was. The other five were still worth a lot of money, but Drake didn’t give a fuck about the girls themselves and had no intention of striking a deal with Duncan. The order came down and he was taken care of as well.’

  The RAFP officer paused long enough to stub out his cigarette into an ashtray, flapping the last trail of smoke away from his face. Then he coughed into his clenched fist, folded his arms across his chest and sealed the deal.

  ‘So the thing is, Detective, by now those girls might already have run out of time. See, Dunc left them with some food and water, but he was expecting to be back with them inside a day. Or at least to have told the police by then if he decided to own up. Two days at most, I reckon. By now they’ll have run out of that food and probably the water as well. Given the journey they’ve had by road, sea and air stretching back several weeks overall, they would have been weak enough when Dunc found them, so I can’t begin to imagine what sort of state they’ll be in now. At Death’s door, probably. Maybe even across the threshold. But I know where Dunc took them. And if we can make that deal, I’ll tell you where to find them.’

  43

  The disused body shop and garage property was tucked away down a narrow drive off Newark Road in the Boongate district of the city – back inside the industrial area just a mile or so from Drake Salvage. Bliss and Chandler were at the head of the convoy speeding towards it on the Frank Perkins Parkway.

  It had taken Bliss very nearly twenty excruciating minutes to reach Detective Superintendent Fletcher, and to then persuade her to offer a written deal in exchange for Lundy’s evidence leading to the whereabouts of five trafficked young women, after which Lundy had to obtain legal verification from his own RAF representative. It was possibly the quickest deal ever struck by major crimes, and to their credit the
RAF had thrown everything into a speedy resolution, but to Bliss it felt as if time had stopped. During that period, Lundy refused to budge until the deal was both authorised and verified. He would not give up the location until he had everything he asked for.

  Flashing blues and wailing twos made sure the vast bulk of traffic cleared a path for them as they slipped off the dual-carriageway onto surface streets, but Bliss powered through junctions as if his own life depended on it. He feared the worst. If Duncan Livingston had secured the women with only enough food and water to last a couple of days, then they were going to be in trouble. Every minute counted. Perhaps every second.

  While they waited for the deal to be confirmed, Lundy provided Bliss with whatever information he had direct knowledge of. He explained how Livingston had come to him in a mad panic, beside himself with fear and remorse.

  ‘You should’ve seen his eyes as he was telling me everything,’ Lundy said to Bliss. By this point, Chandler had stepped outside the room to make and receive a series of phone calls. Clearly sickened by what he had heard, Holbrook joined her. ‘Like fucking saucers they were. He was as white as a sheet, gibbering and stuttering, almost pissing himself I reckon. He told me what he’d discovered inside the container, and that as he’d stood there by the door, one of the girls made a break for it.’

  Lundy started chuckling at this point, which set Bliss’s teeth on edge. The man had no compassion, and Bliss wanted to lay into him with everything he had. Instead he bit down on it.

  ‘Go on,’ he urged the officer. ‘What then?’

  ‘Dunc said he slammed the doors shut again to make sure the other five stayed put, but then they started shouting and squealing, and thinking he’d be found out if he didn’t shut them up he left the one who bolted and returned to the five who stayed. One of them spoke decent enough English, and Dunc managed to calm them down. He told them he was going to save them, but that he had to remove them from the base there and then. Told them he’d squirrel them away until things had been settled between him and the men who were after them, and then the following day he’d take them to the police.’

  ‘But he was never able to make it back to them,’ Bliss said.

  ‘No. Unfortunately for him. I liked Duncan, and I wish he’d never got involved. But he was the most logical choice when we needed someone to step up. When Drake wants someone involved, they get involved, one way or another. When his crew drove off with Dunc, I had no idea what they were going to do to him.’

  ‘But you know who the three men were?’

  Lundy nodded. ‘Sure. I’ll throw their names in as part of the deal.’

  ‘No. The deal is your freedom from prosecution regarding the smuggling in exchange for evidence leading to the rescue of those girls. Provided you were not involved with the murder of Flying Officer Livingston.’

  ‘I had no part in that. No way. All right, I’ll give you the names of the three blokes who were involved as a good will gesture on my part.’

  Lundy reeled off the names, which Bliss made a note of. Two of the three were currently being detained and questioned at Thorpe Wood. Then he said, ‘You had no idea what those men intended to do when they drove off with Duncan, correct?’

  ‘That’s right. No idea. Rough him up a bit, sure. Maybe something a bit more permanent. I certainly didn’t imagine they would kill him, though. They not only wanted to know where the girls were, they also needed him in place for the next cargo delivery.’

  Bliss suspected that was not entirely true, but he ignored it and pursued the next stage instead. ‘So how about afterwards? As soon as he was reported missing you must have had an idea that something bad had happened to him.’

  ‘Not really. Not… that. I assumed Drake’s men still had hold of him, maybe trying to get information from him. I didn’t imagine they would let him go so’s he could free the other five girls.’

  ‘That’s why they murdered him, wasn’t it?’ Bliss said. ‘Duncan refused to tell them where he’d stashed the girls.’

  Lundy nodded. ‘That’d be my guess.’

  ‘The three who took him off base were the same three who killed him I assume?’

  Another nod.

  ‘How do you suppose they arrived at the decision to murder him that way? It was a bit more complex than I’d expect from a two-bob gangster.’

  ‘That would have been Drake’s idea. And believe me, he’s no ‘two-bob gangster’ as you put it. He’s the real deal, a real brainiac, and one scary bastard. As I understand it, he knew about the security cameras down there from a guard who patrols that area.’

  Bristow or Cogger, Bliss thought. Perhaps even both. He’d known there was something about those two.

  ‘Drake was fond of reminding us all what a hard case he was,’ Lundy went on. ‘Kept warning us to keep our heads, stay quiet, earn the money and everything would be cool. But he talked about having no hesitation in offing us if we stepped out of line. Said he’d do it in such a way that everyone would be so focussed on how we’d died that they wouldn’t spend too much time thinking about us as individuals. He told us he had it all planned out in advance should any of us let him down. That was all we needed to stay onside, believe me. That fucker is sick enough to do anything.’

  As Bliss threw his car around a tight bend, he thought back to that conversation. Lundy had coughed to the lot. Drake had not decided on Livingston’s disposal in a moment of inspiration. It had been his strategy all along to fake a terrorist act if any of the RAF officers on his payroll had to be taken out. As Bliss had suspected, it was a way of throwing the investigating team off the scent, away from the victim and his job and into the more politicised arena of terrorism.

  What had first appeared to be an overly complex and extreme plan, and therefore implausible, now seemed to Bliss to be the work of a mind every bit as clever as it was deranged. Rather than concentrating all their efforts on discovering a motive, the splintered major crimes team would have been convinced by the terrorism angle and subsequently acted as little more than bag-carriers for both MI5 and the CTU. It was a slick diversionary tactic, a sleight-of-hand manoeuvre, and it had very nearly worked.

  As he closed in on the abandoned site, Bliss hoped that Livingston’s sacrifice had not been in vain, and that the five trafficked young women he had rescued were still alive. Hammering along Storey’s Bar Road, Bliss’s mind was in turmoil. Whilst for the most part he was focussed on finding the five young women, he also had the overwhelming sense that he had missed something significant during those final few exchanges with Lundy. But as usual, the more he thought about it the less clear it became. Whatever it was, Bliss could only hope it would not prove critical.

  Or worse still, deadly.

  44

  The Insignia slewed sideways on the dirt and gravel surface as Bliss slammed on the brakes. He threw himself out of the car as the vehicles behind him did the same. A tall wire fence ran around the perimeter of the old body shop and garage site, with a steel and mesh gate barring the way in.

  ‘Get the bolt cutters on that padlock!’ Bliss yelled as he dashed across to the fence, peering through the diamond-shaped gaps into the yard, his hands clawed around the thick wire.

  Lundy had told him that the place was closed down more than eighteen months ago, but that Livingston had a key given to him by Dean Williams, the airman whose role he had taken up when Williams was posted out to Saudi. Evidently the yard had once been used as a transfer depot for the cargo, but Drake and his men were seemingly unaware that Livingston even knew about the place, let alone had access to it. From where Bliss stood it reeked of spilled fuel and oil.

  Through the fence Bliss could see a couple of trailers, a heap of partially-burned scrap and rubbish, a number of wooden pallets either strewn across the ground or stacked leaning against the outer wall. Two corrugated steel buildings dominated the site, one half the size of the other, the faded signs indicating which had been used as the body shop and which was once a garage. Brown a
nd green paint peeled in uninviting strips off the steel panels, as if a chocolate and lime icing had melted in the sun. Drawing his gaze back to the entrance and glancing down at the padlock, Bliss noticed that it was clean, and he thought he smelled lubricant.

  A uniform came charging over with a set of long-handled bolt cutters. It took three aggressive attempts, but the leverage eventually applied enough energy and bite, and the padlock snapped and fell to the ground in two pieces. Once the gates were thrown open with a piercing squeal, the yard swarmed with detectives and uniformed police officers, and Bliss heard the wail of ambulances moving closer.

  He and Chandler dashed inside. Bliss headed around the exterior of the furthest building, figuring Livingston would have left the girls in a container stashed somewhere around the back where it could not be seen from outside the entrance. Either that or they would be tucked away inside one of the two buildings.

  Bliss came to a juddering halt moments after turning the corner. There were no containers. Just more rubbish and a rusting pile of discarded exhaust pipes.

  Bliss charged back to the garage, which was the larger of the two structures. A number of his colleagues were already inside, searching. The enveloping dusk provided little light for them to work in, even with the shutters rolled fully up, so torch beams flicked around the floor and walls like a spectacular light show. Nothing stirred other than a swarm of rats that scurried away from the punishing beams and back into darkness wherever they could find it. To Bliss’s left there was an old-fashioned pit in which mechanics would have worked beneath cars before hydraulic ramps were deployed. He peered inside, playing the bright cone of the halogen torch he had snatched from the boot of his car earlier across the trench. Amongst some sheets of faded and torn yellow newspaper lay the dead and bloated corpses of several vermin. Bliss figured they had fallen in and were unable to jump high enough to free themselves. He also wondered how long it had taken for them to start eating one another.