‘Gotcha,’ said Savage.
Once the decision was taken, things happened quickly and comparatively smoothly. More people were drafted in, the team broken down into task groups, detailed maps and photos assembled and observers sent out to watch and report on the various locations. By evening, enough had been achieved for most people to be sent home for a few hours’ break. Kathy caught the tube to Finchley Central and walked back through the cold streets to her flat, where she ran a bath and defrosted a lasagne from the freezer. Later, she looked out from her twelfth-floor window at the headlights on the streets below, people heading for a Saturday night out, and remembered Tom Reeves. She didn’t call, but watched TV for a while, then pulled on her coat, feeling the knot of anticipation in her stomach.
She joined the others arriving at the station just before midnight, greeting each other with croaky murmurs and wintry coughs.After she’d changed into overalls and boots and a protective vest, she took her place in the queue to be issued with her Glock pistol.With mugs of tea and chocolate bars they assembled for their final briefing from Brock and Savage, both of them precise, confident and apparently relaxed. There had been no sign of activity at the tyre yard or repair shop,the laundrette had now closed for the night,and Vexx’s mother was said to have watched TV alone in the living room of her house until ten, when she’d gone to bed. Vexx had been seen at the JOS club, where he usually spent his Saturday nights, but had just been reported as having left and gone home, unaccompanied.
Then they were making their way down to the transport, clustering into their groups-the rooftop snipers, the dog-handlers, the paramedics, the cameramen, the heavy squads laden with battering rams and bolt-cutters.
Kathy had been assigned to the house. The van drove down Cove Street, past the club booming with sound and activity, then the darkened laundrette, and turned into the back streets. It drew to a halt at the end of a narrow lane and two of the men got out. There was a large dog in the backyard, they knew, as in most of the yards around here and Kathy was glad she was going in through the front. As the van continued around the corner into the street they saw Vexx’s Peugeot 307 standing at the kerb.
A sharp crack and the front door slammed inward. Kathy and two others ran upstairs. They found Vexx’s mother asleep in bed in the front room, the other two bedrooms empty. The two men continued up to the attic floor while Kathy waited, tense, on the landing, pistol gripped in both hands, straining for telltale sounds. But she didn’t hear the bathroom door open behind her, and gave a spasmic jump when a deep voice at her ear murmured,‘Lookin’ for me, darlin’?’
She turned to see Mr Teddy Vexx, all 252 naked pounds of him, towering inches away, wearing nothing but an assortment
of gold chains around his neck.
‘Christ!’ She hopped back, bringing up the gun.
‘Yeah,’he said softly.‘The little girls were impressed too.’
As they led him downstairs to the van, now dressed, the first reports started coming in over the radio from the other sites, of empty rooms and deserted buildings. Even the dogs had disappeared.
FOUR
The returning teams made no attempt to hide their frustration, banging their equipment and kicking their boots. The adrenaline was still fizzing and it had nowhere to go. Tools and weapons were locked away again with a niggling sense of anticlimax. Vexx, too, was locked away, the sole arrest of the night. Only the drug sniffer dogs, snuffling in the corners of the deserted repair shop behind the tyre yard, gave grounds for hope, and forensic teams had moved in.
There was nothing for the rest of them to do and they began to drift away. Kathy finished her paperwork for Vexx’s arrest and handed it in to the duty inspector, feeling raw and edgy. She returned home and went to bed, but found it impossible to sleep.
She felt lousy the next morning. Thinking fresh air might help, she tramped out through the snow to buy a paper, then ordered toast and coffee in an empty cafe. Her mind flicked back to Vexx, stark naked, and his jibe about the girls. He’d been trying to rile her, of course, and he’d succeeded, though he wouldn’t be smiling if they made the DNA match.
On impulse she dug out the cheque stub on which she’d written Tom Reeves’s number and dialled it.
His voice was a mumble, as if he’d just woken up, and for a horrible moment she thought she must have caught him in bed with someone. Then he apologised and said he’d had a mouthful of muesli.
‘I just wondered if you were free for lunch?’ she said.
He seemed keen, and they arranged to meet at a pub they’d visited together once before, in Camden Town.
Her doubts eased a little when she saw him come through the door,tall,confident,the dark hair swept back,the warm smile in his eyes as he spotted her.He came over and kissed her cheek and asked how she was. She’d already finished one glass of wine and he went to the bar to fetch a bottle,then sat opposite her and began to make small talk in that easy voice of his. The wine helped a little, but she still felt edgy and out of kilter. Eventually he asked her what was wrong and she told him about the previous night. He listened intently,then nodded and said,‘Oh,Kathy,I understand.’She looked up from the beer mat she’d been scouring with her nail and saw that he really did-he’d been through similar things so many times him-self-and a weight lifted from her. He asked some questions and they talked it through some more and when he went to pick up the food she did feel much better. She told herself it was the wine.
When he returned he said, ‘Interesting, the Jamaican thing. Have you ever been there?’
‘To Jamaica? No.You?’
He nodded.‘Yeah,with the Branch.In fact,I had thought about trying to get onto the Trident team. I’ve met one or two of them.’
‘You still want to get out of Special Branch?’
‘Yeah. This last thing was the end. And I’m really sorry about how it must have seemed to you,disappearing without notice,without explanation. I don’t want to live like that, Kathy. I want out.’
‘Was it bad?’
‘Actually it was fairly routine. I think I was being tested, to see if I could go back to undercover duties, but it didn’t work, not for me anyway.’
He had referred before to some problem he’d had on undercover operations, and how he’d been transferred to the Branch’s A Squad, providing protection for VIPs. He’d also spoken of being at odds with his immediate superiors, who seemed to be blocking his requests to move elsewhere.
‘Are you back at work now?’ Kathy asked.
He rolled his eyes.‘I’m protecting a colonel and his wife,a mass-murderer by all accounts, attending a peace conference in London for a couple of weeks.’
The conversation returned to the things that were troubling Kathy, to her doubts about the case against Vexx, and to all the things she didn’t understand about the two teenage girls. ‘They were children, Tom.What had they done to provoke such cold-blooded violence?’ she asked.
‘As to the violence, Kathy,’ Tom replied,‘you know how it is with the Yardies. All about territory and respect.You step on the wrong guy’s foot in the wrong dance hall and you’re dead. It sounds like someone was making an example of those two.Where are you holding Vexx?’
When she told him he pulled the newspaper out of his jacket pocket and said,‘I was reading something else about Cockpit Lane . . .Yes, here you go.’
Kathy scanned the brief report on the discovery of human remains near the site of the railway accident involving schoolboy Adam Nightingale,reported to be still in a medically induced coma.
‘You seem to be in the thick of the action,’ Tom said. ‘I’m envious.’
Just then Kathy’s phone beeped with a message from Brock, asking if she could come in. She checked her watch.‘I have to get back, Tom. Thanks for lunch. It was good to catch up again.’ It sounded as if she was saying goodbye, and she saw him hesitate, then smile and say,‘Yes, great.’ He kissed her on the cheek and added, ‘We didn’t have much time together. Shall we do it agai
n?’
‘Fine,’ she said, and made for the door. The words ‘time together’ stuck in her mind. She thought they sounded quite good.
She bumped into Brock pacing down the corridor of the station.
‘Kathy, right. We’ve got him. Sundeep’s made the match to Vexx’s DNA.’ He looked reinvigorated, and relieved perhaps, as if a gamble he didn’t really expect to win had paid off.
‘That was quick.’
‘Yes. Sundeep’s pulled out all the stops on this one. He has a daughter Dee-Ann’s age, did you know?’
‘Ah. No, I didn’t.’
‘Yes. We’ve been doing extra tests and Savage is about to interview Vexx now. So far he’s said nothing, just talked to his brief. That’s another story.’
Kathy found it hard to read his expression. ‘Oh? What’s the problem?’
‘Come and see.’
She followed him to the video monitoring room where they took seats in front of a screen.When she focused on the picture she felt a small jolt as she recognised Vexx’s lawyer.‘Martin Connell,’she said.‘I see what you mean.’
In a way,she owed the fact that she worked for Brock to Martin Connell, with whom she was having an affair when Brock had first taken an interest in her. It was the reason he had. Connell represented the wealthiest, the most celebrated, the most notorious of criminal clients.With Martin Connell on your side you knew that no defence weapon, however dubious or unscrupulous, would be overlooked.You also knew that when you were found not guilty, few would believe it was true, although they would wonder who your friends were.
He had put on a few pounds, she thought, due no doubt to many excellent meals with his beautiful wife Lynne, and her father, retired Judge Willoughby, and their four talented children, now at university she supposed. The sheer foolishness of the affair pressed in on Kathy as she studied him, but also the emotional force of it, even after all this time-because for her, at least, it had been very serious indeed. She wondered if he still made use of his friend’s flat, the one with the sleazy bedroom with the mirror on the ceiling.
He was engaging in some initial skirmishing with Savage, points of clarification and procedure. Vexx sat beside him, massive arms crossed, eyes hooded, gold cargo glinting beneath the lights. Finally Savage began the questions.
‘Do you know this girl?’ he asked, showing Vexx a picture of Dee-Ann. Vexx barely dipped his eyes to look at it. He gave a grunt.
‘Please answer the question, Mr Vexx.’
‘Chief Inspector, a point of accuracy, if you please,’ Connell intervened.‘My client’s correct name is Mr Teddy Vexx, as a single appellation. To call him Mr Vexx is a bit like me referring to you as Inspector Savage, rather than Chief Inspector Savage.’
Savage stared at him for a moment with a look of loathing that registered vividly even on the small screen. ‘Thank you, Mr Connell.’ He turned back to Vexx.‘Do you know this girl?’
Vexx shrugged.‘I don’ know. I don’ remember.’
‘I’m talking about within the last seventy-two hours, Mr Teddy Vexx. Have you seen this girl within the past seventy-two hours?’
‘No, I don’ think so.’
‘Please think very carefully. She was found dead early on Friday morning. Did you see her during Thursday night or Friday morning?’
Vexx shrugged and shook his head.
‘Is that a no?’
‘Yes, it’s a no.’
‘Then I wonder if you can explain how your semen was found in her mouth.’
Martin Connell, who had been pretending an interest in his paperwork, looked up at that, a quizzical arch to one eyebrow. Vexx remained impassive.
‘How can you explain that, Mr Teddy Vexx?’ Savage repeated.
There was silence, then Connell began to say something, but Vexx held up a massive hand and he fell silent. They waited a moment,then Vexx said,‘Maybe I did see her-’
Connell broke in, ‘Don’t answer, Teddy. I’d like a break to consult with my client.’
But Vexx went on,‘I picked up a woman, maybe one or two o’clock on Friday morning. But I don’ remember her face.’
‘Teddy,’ Connell tried to insist, but Vexx ignored him.
‘Where was this?’
‘Camberwell, I don’ know exactly.’
‘What happened?’
‘She waved down my car. She wanted money for sex. I gave her a few quid an’ she gave me a blow job. I didn’t look at her face. She got out an’ I drove away.’ He turned to Martin Connell and shrugged, as if to say,What else can one do?
Savage stared at him for a moment.Then he said,‘Were there any witnesses?’
‘Yes, my business associate, Mr Jay Crocker.’
‘Mr Jay Crocker witnessed this?’
‘That’s right.’
‘Where was he?’
‘Why, in the car. He’ll tell you.’
‘We’ll want to examine your car.’
‘What’s to examine? She was in the car, man, for maybe two minutes.’
They saw Savage take a deep breath.‘I want a complete account of your recent movements. Let’s start with the night of Thursday last, the third of February . . .’ But they heard the fading confidence in his voice.
Ten minutes later Brock shook his head with disgust and got to his feet. Kathy followed him out the door. As they walked silently back to the incident room, Brock’s phone rang. He listened for a while then turned to Kathy. ‘It’s Bren. They’ve found the remains of a second body on the railway land. Let’s take a look.’
Bren Gurney, dressed in a thick coat and green boots and a beanie pulled down over his ears, was waiting on Mafeking Road to show them the way. The scene of crime people had taken over one of the empty warehouses behind the railway waste ground and had dismantled the rear fence to provide access onto the site. There were half a dozen vehicles parked in front of the building and as they tramped down its side they had to step back against the wall to let a truck, laden with snow, drive out.
‘One and a half acres,’ Bren said as they emerged onto the waste ground.‘Biggest crime scene I’ve ever been involved with. They’re trying to get more people.’
The area that Kathy and McCulloch had reached from the other direction was now unrecognisable, scraped clear of snow and bracken and gridded with tapes. Two tents had been erected, and across the rest of the site figures were bent shovelling snow and working with survey instruments.
Bren, a big, soft-spoken Cornishman who had been a part of Brock’s team from the beginning, led them towards one of the tents.‘They found it around lunchtime, about five yards from the first. Similar situation, shallow grave formed in a natural hollow. We’re calling them Alpha and Bravo for the time being.’
He lifted the flap and they stepped inside. Two people were working beneath lights in a pit in the ground, a third watching from the edge. This man came over and Bren introduced him as the Crime Scene Manager from Forensic Services.
‘This one’s in very much the same condition as the first,’ he said. ‘The remains have been disturbed, possibly by animals, and we weren’t sure initially if this was part of the same corpse, until we found the skull.’
Brock raised an eyebrow and the man nodded,pointing a finger at his own forehead.‘Yes,exactly the same,like an execution.Back of the skull fractured by the exit. No bullets found as yet. Most of the clothing has rotted away, but we’re finding bits-a belt buckle, buttons,remains of a shoe.’He squinted out through the door of the tent.‘It’ll be dark soon, and more snow is forecast, but we’ll keep going as long as we can. The press have been sniffing around, of course.’
‘No more indication of age, gender, race?’
The man shook his head. ‘You’ll have to talk to the pathologist.We certainly haven’t found any kind of identification.’
Brock thanked him and they returned to the warehouse, where material brought in from the site was being processed through wire-mesh sieve trays set up on trestle legs, then recorded and stored
in labelled plastic boxes. A large map of the site was pinned to the wall, with a numbered grid drawn over it.
‘Sundeep’s going to have his work cut out,’Bren said.‘He was here earlier, with two of his assistants.’
‘What do we know about the schoolboy?’
‘Adam Nightingale? Only child, lives with his mother, no father. A bit of a nerd, we’re told. Chess and computer geek, hopeless at sports, just one friend we could find.’
Brock said, ‘Weren’t you supposed to be taking your girls somewhere today, Bren?’
‘Tobogganing.We did a bit this morning, then I got the call about the second body. It’s okay.’
‘Well, go back to them now. I’d better see if I can arrange a press conference here for noon tomorrow. Meanwhile, you can put your feet up.You too, Kathy.’
Bren offered Kathy a lift to the tube station, and along the way she told him about the raid on Teddy Vexx and his interview. Bren swore softly.‘There’s got to be some forensic evidence to put Vexx in the building with the girls, surely?’
‘That’s what we’re banking on now,’ she said. Suddenly she felt overwhelmingly tired. Bren’s car was warm, and there was an indefinable smell of something she associated with childhood.What was it? Some kind of soap? Shampoo? With a sigh she closed her eyes and allowed herself to imagine, for just one self-indulgent moment,that she was a little girl again,like one of Bren’s,in a warm safe world free of guns, drugs, oral rapists and Mr Teddy Vexx.
She woke with a start and saw a familiar row of shops rush past the window.‘Hang on,’ she said.‘This is Finchley.’
‘You were out for the count,’ Bren said. ‘Couldn’t very well turf you out in the snow.You’ll be home soon.’
‘You didn’t need to do that.’ ‘You looked all-in.’ ‘Christ, Bren, I’m not one of your little girls.’ He smiled. ‘No, but we all need a ride home from time to
time, Kathy. Even you.’ He pulled into the forecourt of her block.‘See you tomorrow.’ ‘Yeah, thanks. Give the girls my love. Tell them they’re lucky
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